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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO 
SAN FRANCISCO 


MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCtlTTA 
MELBOURNE 


THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

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Then the mighty Monomatapa . . . stretched out trembling 
hands till they touched Temple’s feet.” 


■^JOHN TEMPLE 


MERCHANT ADVENTURER, CONVICT 
AND CONQUISTADOR 

A NOVEL 


BY 

RALPH DURAND ^ 
U 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
191 1 


jSll rights reserved 




Copyright, 1911, 


By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 


Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 191Z. 


Korfaoob 

J. S. Cushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.8.A. 



DEDICATED 


TO THE DEAR LADY 

WHO 

UNCONSCIOUSLY SAT FOR THE PORTRAIT 

OF 


DONA BEATRIZ 



FOREWORD 


Every schoolboy has heard tales as true as they are 
wonderful of the Spanish conquest of Mexico and 
Peru, but comparatively few boys or men know that 
a tale, almost as wonderful and romantic and every 
bit as true, might be written of the attempt made by 
Francisco Barreto to establish a great Portuguese 
South African Empire. The reason for this is three- 
fold. (i) The Spanish conquistadores Cortes and 
Pizarro succeeded, whereas Barreto failed, not through 
lack of courage and enterprise, but through famine, 
disease, and treachery. (2) Cortes and Pizarro 
found States possessing almost every element of 
advanced civilization, but the civilized State which 
Barreto hoped to find and subdue had no more real 
existence than the fabled court of Prester John. 
(3) Prescott, the historian of the conquests of 
Mexico and Peru, is known and read throughout 
Europe and America, whereas the historians of Bar- 
reto’s expedition are half forgotten even in Portugal. 

While travelling in the Zambesi valley, on the 


FOREWORD 


viii 

very ground over which Barreto’s expedition passed, 
I saw relics of the days when Portugal was at the 
height of her power, and heard from my Portuguese 
friends tales half-remembered and strangely distorted 
of the gallant achievements of the Portuguese con- 
quistadores. These induced me to learn for my- 
self as much as I could of the history of Portuguese 
East Africa, and later to attempt to make the deeds 
of the conquistadores better known than they are. 
I used the novel as my medium because the tale, 
though true, seemed too romantic for sober history. 
The reader will easily distinguish which is fact and 
which is fiction if he remembers this — that all that 
is best in the book is fact, and that the rest is the 
product of my imagination. 

I have taken a liberty with history in recording 
the fate of John Temple. It is true that an English- 
man, the bearer of the letter from Queen Elizabeth 
to Akbar, the Great Mogul (which is reproduced 
word for word in Chapter I.), was captured by the 
Portuguese at Ormuz and carried to Goa. Unlike 
John Temple, however, he contrived to escape from 
Goa, visited Akbar’s court, and, after wandering for 
many years in the East, returned to England and was 
instrumental in founding the East India Company. 

It might be supposed that I have also taken 
liberties with history in colouring too highly the 


FOREWORD 


IX 


sufferings of the shipwrecked Portuguese. So far 
from this being the case, I have toned down the 
account of Senhora Ribeiro's death, the actual cir- 
cumstances of which were too terrible to be intro- 
duced in a novel. > 

Those who wish to compare what I have written 
with what actually occurred will find the Portuguese 
Historical Records translated in G. M. Theal’s 
Records of South-East Africa, 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 
VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 
XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

’XVIII. 

XIX. 


PAGE 

Prologue i 

How John Temple, Jewel Merchant, fell into 
THE Hands of the Portuguese ... 23 

In which John Temple seeks to turn the 

Tables on his Captors 48 

In which the Conspiracy ripens too soon . 64 

In which the Mutineers and their Masters 

WORK side by side 8o 

The Wreck of the “Sao Raphael” . . 92 

In which John Temple is admitted to the 
Councils of the Cavalleiros . . .104 

In which the Overland March is begun . 12 1 

In which Greed preys upon Misery . . .140 

In which Henrique Ramires gives away his 

Sword 153 

The Death of Captain Dom Balthazar d’Elvas 172 
In which Dom Vicente devises a Plot . .180 

Through Great Tribulation . . . .194 

Dom Vicente tells his Tale .... 207 

In which the Nour Jehan changes Hands . 221 
John Temple becomes a Captain in the Portu- 
guese Army 237 

In which the Nour Jehan changes Hands 

FOR THE Last Time 248 

News from Mozambique 259 

A Prayer to St. Anthony 272 

Into the Unknown 278 


XI 


• • 


CONTENTS 


Xll 


CHAPTER 

XX. 

XXL 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 


PAGE 

“The Thunder of the Captains and the 

Shouting ” 286 

The Triumph of Monclaros .... 295 

At Monomatapa’s Court 306 

The Downfall of Antonio Pereira Brandao 321 

The Death of Barreto 328 

In which Temple returns to Sena . . . 340 

In which Temple gives an Account of Himself 351 
A Path of Gold . 361 


LIST OF illustrations 


“Then the mighty Monomatapa . . . stretched out 


trembling hands till they clasped Temple’s feet ” 


(p. 320) .... 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Frontispiece 

“‘Would you rob me of my crown?’ 

DEMANDED THE 


OLD MAN sternly” 

• 

. 

• 

• 

• • 

19 

“‘Ah, Senhor, what have they 

DONE 

TO 

YOU ? 

’ CRIED 


Dona Beatriz impulsively” 

• 

• 

• 

• • 

41 

“‘You WILL NOT LEAVE ME ! ’ 

SHE 

CRIED 

11 

• 

« • 

200 

“He knew that the woman 

• • 

. WAS 

ALL THE 

WORLD 


... TO him” 

• 

• 

. 

• 

• • 

232 

“His eyes were full of tears, 

AS IF 

IT 

HAD BEEN HE 


WHO WAS THE CULPRIT” 

• 

• 

% 

• 

• • 

323 

“ He heated the blade of 

HIS 

KNIFE 

IN 

THE 

CANDLE 


flame” .... 





• • 

338 


“ Then there on a spit of sand those two, who had a 
DOZEN times faced DEATH TOGETHER, JOINED HANDS 

AND WERE MADE ONE” 368 / 

Map ........ At end of volu7ne 



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JOHN TEMPLE 


PROLOGUE 

“ Behold the Benomatapa’s puissant reign 
Of salvage Negroes, rude and noisome race. 
Where shall for Holy Faith be foully slain 
Martyred Gonzalo, suffering sore disgrace.’’ 

Sir Richard Burton^ s translation of 
Camoens'* s ** Lusiadf 


Nearly three and a half centuries ago, on the out- 
skirts of a village situated in the country now known 
as Mashonaland, a Portuguese adventurer stood, as 
the shadows lengthened towards the horizon, watch- 
ing just such a scene as one may see at eventide in 
any Mashonaland village to-day. He saw the sun 
setting behind huge tors of bare grey granite that 
stood up boldly out of the plain, clearly defined 
against the glowing sky. He saw the glint of the 
sunset shining through the cloud of golden dust that 
was raised by the hoofs of the cattle and goats as 
they returned from the pasture ; gangs of men filling 
large shallow baskets with the tender, newly-hatched 
locusts that swarmed on the stems of the long grass ; 
and a cluster of elders, whose age and rank freed 
them from the obligation to labour, gossiping at the 

B I 


2 JOHN TEMPLE 

village gate. He heard the songs sung by the 
womenfolk as they trailed upwards from the river 
balancing large pots of water on their heads ; the 
shrill voices of the little children who chased their 
mothers’ fowls from underneath the granary eaves 
shouting, Enter the pen, enter the pen, the sun 
goes, the sun goes,” the harsh metallic clutter 
uttered by the villagers’ half-wild half-domesticated 
guinea-fowls as they went to roost in the branches 
of the tallest trees. 

Suddenly a curious incident occurred. From 
within the village a shrill cry was raised, and all 
within earshot paused to clap their hands and mutter 

Long life to our lord.” The barbaric king who 
held his court within the village walls had done 
some trivial thing, coughed perhaps, sneezed, sighed, 
or drunk a draught of water, and all who valued 
their lives were compelled at the command of the 
court herald to exorcise any evil spirits that might 
use the occasion to compass evil to their king. The 
Portuguese soldier of fortune hastily followed the 
example of those around him, for it served his pur- 
pose to humour the whims of ^ The Lord of the 
Mountain,’ as the dusky potentate at whose court 
he lived was called. At a time when his country- 
men were harrying Arab merchant-seamen in the 
Red Sea and on the East African coast,' wringing 
tribute from timorous Indian rajahs and committing 
piracies throughout the length and breadth of the 
Eastern seas, this man, in pursuance of far-sighted 
deep-laid plans, had penetrated unprotected, almost 


PROLOGUE 


3 


unarmed, with but two companions, far beyond the 
uttermost fringe of Portugal’s East African con- 
quests. While serving as a soldier at the Portuguese 
garrison of Sofala he had heard rumours of a country 
as large as Spain, ruled by a prince who bore the 
dynastic title of Monomatapa, or ‘ Lord of the 
Mountain,’ whose court was situated two months’ 
journey from the sea, whose regiments were garri- 
soned in wonderful stone-walled forts of vast 
strength that had been built by no human hands, 
whose stores of ivory would have sufficed to build 
a palace, and whose gold mines were of a richness 
such as not even the Spaniards had found in Mexico 
and Peru. To a man imbued with the spirit of 
that age no danger was too great to be faced, no 
chance too hazardous to be undertaken, so long as 
the prize in view were worth the winning. In- 
spired with the idea of finding a means of control- 
ling Monomatapa’s wealth, Antonio Caiado and 
his companions had quitted the safety of the Sofala 
garrison, journeyed on foot to Monomatapa’s court, 
won his confidence, entered his service, and organ- 
ized his army, and were endeavouring by loyal 
service to prepare the way for disloyal intrigue that 
would enable them by one sudden and vigorous 
masterstroke to obtain possession of his throne. 
On this 1 6th day of March, in the year 1561, how- 
ever, it was still necessary for Caiado to play the 
part of the loyal courtier. He clapped his hands 
vigorously, therefore, and recited the formula like a 
loyal servant of the great Monomatapa. 


4 JOHN TEMPLE 

As the hand-clapping ceased, the sound of shrill 
laughter rose from a group of children that clustered 
jostling and shouting round a seated figure. Caiado 
stepped forward to reprimand the man who allowed 
the children to forget the homage they owed to their 
king, but his rebuke remained unuttered when he saw 
that the children were crowding round an old white- 
bearded man clothed in the habit of the recently 
formed Order of Jesus. It was not seemly that 
Antonio Caiado, a mere plebeian and layman, should 
admonish Father Dom Gonzalo da Silveira, who 
was not only a priest but a member of one of the 
noblest families in Portugal. The soldier’s respect 
for the Jesuit depended, however, on more than 
mere homage to rank and the Church. Swashbuckler 
though he was, he could appreciate the sincerity 
and devotion of a man who, disdaining the ease 
and luxury he might have enjoyed, had faced the 
difficulties and dangers of a land journey in tropical 
Africa, and, refusing the presents of cattle, gold, and 
slaves which the king had offered him, had settled 
down to a life of poverty and hardship, determined 
to devote the few remaining years of his life to 
winning Monomatapa and his subjects to his own 
faith. 

“ Ah, senhor ! ” said the old man, as the children 
parted to let Caiado pass. “ See how babes and 
sucklings rebuke those who think themselves wise ! 
Thinking to amuse these little ones, I showed them 
some of those string puzzles our nurses taught us, 
but no sooner had I made the ‘ Cats’ Cradle ’ than 


PROLOGUE 


S 


a mannikin no taller than your knee plucked the 
string from my fingers and showed me a dozen 
figures more complicated and ingenious than any 
that our Portuguese children know. It gives me 
great hope for my Holy Mission. If such as these 
show intelligence in trivial things, may I not hope 
that they will be able to comprehend the higher 
things which it is my privilege to teach them ? ” 

‘‘ What success have you with the fathers ^ ” 
asked Caiado, obeying the gesture by which the 
priest invited him to be seated. ‘‘ Have you bap- 
tized any more to-day ? ” 

‘‘ Not less than fifty. The work progresses 
amazingly since their king embraced the true Faith. 
Senhor, have you ever reflected what a glorious 
opportunity is ours ? What is the name of the 
mountain yonder ? ’’ 

‘‘ The Kaffirs call it Fura.” 

“ Now look down into the valley. Who built 
those massive walls that are now falling into ruin ? ” 
Father Gonzalo pointed to one of those 
mysterious clusters of ruins, still to be found in 
many parts of Mashonaland and Matabeleland, 
speculation as to the origin of which arouses much 
heated controversy among archaeologists. Caiado, 
having no opinion of his own to offer, quoted that 
of the Arabs that traded at Monomatapa's court. 

“ The Moors say that they were built by the 
Devil,” he replied dubiously. 

Father Gonzalo laughed. They pay homage 
to the fiend whom they serve. I have a better theory. 


6 JOHN TEMPLE 

Listen. I believe that that mountain which the 
Kaffirs call Fura is the Ophir of the Old Testament ; 
that in those ruins once dwelt the soldiers of the 
Queen of Sheba, who in the opinion of the glorious 
St. Jerome was mistress of all the land of Ethiopia 
that lies to the south of Egypt, and that this very 
country in which we now are is none other than 
the land from which Solomon — whom may God 
have ! — obtained gold, silver, and rare timber, ivory, 
apes, and peacocks. It is no wild dream. Listen 
to the proof. Of gold and ivory there is in this 
country great abundance. You have seen the gold, 
have you not ? ” 

‘^Not often, and I do not know where they 
find it. Where the mines are is known only to 
a few, for Monomatapa keeps the trade in his own 
hands, but there is no lack of it. While I was with 
the king one day they brought him a lump of pure 
gold, pitted like coral, as large as a man’s head. 
Lest his enemies should hear of it and make war 
on him, he told them to bury it again. He said it 
would breed more.” 

“ Gold there is, then, and no doubt silver also. 
Pearls you must yourself have seen at Sofala. Rich 
and precious timber both you and I have seen in the 
forests by the coast. Peacocks I have not seen, yet 
there must be some, for do not the king’s chief 
warriors wear on their heads crests of peacocks’ 
feathers ? ‘ And as for apes, why look — there is a troop 
of the rascals even now stealing down from the hill- 
side to plunder yonder cornfield. What think you ? ” 


PROLOGUE 


7 


Father Gonzalo, his face beaming with enthusiasm, 
turned to Caiado to hear his answer, but the soldier, 
who knew little about Solomon and still less about 
Ophir or the glorious St. Jerome, but whose life 
depended on noting anything that might indicate a 
change in the friendly attitude of those around him, 
was occupied with other thoughts. While the priest 
was speaking a man had come out of the village and 
driven away the children who till then had been 
standing in silence, staring at the two Portuguese 
and patiently waiting for the elder to devise some 
new amusement for them. Caiado noted this, and 
noted, moreover, that the man had approached them 
without the customary salute. 

“I am uneasy. Father,” he said. ‘‘The man 
who drove away the children is one of the king's 
councillors. His manner was rude, though you, 
perhaps, who have been but a few weeks in the 
country and cannot yet speak with the people 
without an interpreter, noticed nothing unusual. 
Yesterday, he would not have dared to treat us 
like that. I am afraid some mischief-maker has 
carried word to the king that when, awhile ago, all 
men were commanded to clap their hands in the 
king's honour, you and the children did not obey. 
The king does not readily excuse anything that he 
considers a slight on his dignity, and the Moors, 
who hate you for fear you should undermine their 
influence with the king, would gladly seize any 
opportunity of accusing you.'' 

“ You are over-cautious, senhor,'' replied Gonzalo 


8 JOHN TEMPLE 

impatiently. “ The king is now a Christian, and 
has done with heathen practices and hates the fol- 
lowers of the False Prophet as much as you and I. 
If he takes notice of the matter I will rebuke him. 
To return to our conversation. What think you 
of my theory ? Have we not a glorious opportunity ? 
Does it not seem as if Divine Providence has guided 
our steps hither ? ” 

Now, Caiado and Father Gonzalo regarded the 
wealth of Mashonaland from totally different stand- 
points. Both men honestly believed that, since the 
Pope had given to Portugal all the lands between 
the Cape of Good Hope eastwards to the Pacific 
as he had given America to Spain, the King of 
Portugal and his subjects were the rightful owners 
of whatever wealth those lands should be found to 
contain ; but whereas Father Gonzalo considered 
that such wealth had been given to Portugal only in 
order to assist her in achieving the spiritual conquest 
of the East, Caiado believed that it could with 
perfect honesty be used to aggrandize Portugal and 
enrich those of her soldiers into whose hands it 
should fall. For which reason the soldier misunder- 
stood the priest when he spoke of a glorious 
opportunity. 

“ The land is rich without doubt,” he replied, 

whether Solomon’s wealth came from here or not, 
but his Majesty will need a large army to conquer 
it, and so long as all soldiers drafted from Portugal 

are sent to the Malabar coast ” 

His Majesty will need no army here but the 


PROLOGUE 


9 


soldiers of Christ, no weapons but the blessed 
Sacraments. In India the followers of the False 
Prophet are powerful, and must be broken by the 
power of the sword. Here their power is already 
gone. The king is already won to the service of 
Christ. Have but a little patience, and Mono- 
matapa, under my guidance, will realize his duty as 
a true son of the Church, and gladly surrender his 
wealth that it may be used to break the infidels. 
That is our glorious opportunity. As I look down 
on those ruins and reflect that the same land, from 
which in old times came the wealth with which 
Solomon glorified God, will again be used to God’s 
glory in bringing all Asia to the true faith, I cannot 
but believe that Divine Providence guided our 
footsteps hither. Come with me. It is time for 
Vespers, and afterwards I will show you the passages 
of Scripture which prove to me that this land is none 
other than-the land of Ophir.” 

They rose and passed through the village, each 
occupied with his own thoughts, the priest devising 
roseate schemes for the evangelization of the world, 
the soldier, more concerned with his own welfare, 
anxiously noting the demeanour of the people they 
passed. The day’s work was done, and the village 
was rapidly filling with those who had spent the day 
hunting, herding the cattle or working in the 
cornfields. Some saluted the Europeans with the 
respect due to men high in the king’s favour. Men 
clapped their hands and scraped their feet on the 
ground. Women folded their arms across their 


lo JOHN TEMPLE 

breasts and curtsied. Children looked up from their 
play and piped, We see you, masters.” Others, on 
the other hand, behaved as if the two Europeans 
were malevolent wizards whom it was dangerous to 
encounter. Men avoided them by turning aside 
from the path to slink behind the high wattle fences 
that encircled each cluster of huts, and women, 
grabbing as many children as they could carry, and 
calling to others to follow them, fled into the shelter 
of the huts, and turning stared through the low 
doorways at the strangers with eyes that gleamed 
with mingled fear and hate. 

Something has happened. Father,” said Caiado. 

The people behave as if we had the evil eye. I 
fear that the Moors have poisoned the king's mind 
against us. I had better go and ask an audience 
with him. If there is danger about, it is better to 
face it than to stay in ignorance of it.” 

‘‘You have too little faith, my son. Still, if you 
wish to do so, wait until after Vespers and I will 
accompany you and reason with Monomatapa.” 

They entered the little church which the king 
had caused to be built in his first zeal for the new 
faith, or perhaps in his desire to please the man who 
lavished presents of calico and beads on all who 
submitted to the rite of baptism. It was a rough, 
barn-like building with earthen floor and thatched 
roof. On the walls, which were made of wattle 
plastered with mud, hung crude highly-coloured 
pictures of sacred subjects, and one large allegorical 
picture designed and painted by Father Gonzalo 


PROLOGUE 


1 1 

himself. This last was a representation of heaven 
and hell. At the bottom of the picture Satan, 
distinguished by horns and tail, brandished a trident 
over the heads of six men, one white and five black, 
who cowered among the flames. A spiral cloud 
of smoke occupied the centre of the picture, and 
expanded near the top into a golden cloud on which, 
round the Throne of God, sat another six men, five 
of whom were white and one, clothed in gorgeous 
blue and scarlet cloth, was black. Candles stood on 
a roughly-fashioned altar draped in common blue 
calico, above which, in startling contrast to the 
surrounding roughness, hung a white marble crucifix 
of a beauty equal to the finest products of the Italian 
sculptors of that time. 

The church, having only one small window, was 
so dark that when they first entered it neither of the 
men noticed a figure crouching in the farthest corner, 
but as the priest stepped forward to prepare for the 
evening service a man stood up and, crouching low 
as if to avoid being seen from the outside, came 
towards them. Caiado, who had seen enough during 
the last hour to put him on his guard against possible 
treachery, drew his dagger and ran forward to shield 
the defenceless priest. 

“ Stand back ! he commanded in the vernacular. 

Who are you ? ” 

Gently, senhor, gently,*’ remonstrated Father 
Gonzalo, noticing Caiado’s threatening attitude 
though he did not understand his words. ‘‘This 
is one of those whom I baptized to-day. No doubt 


12 JOHN TEMPLE 

he has come early lest he should be late for Vespers, 
or perhaps he has some question to ask concerning 
his newly-found faith. Interpret for me, but do not 
speak so roughly.*' 

What is it you want ? " asked Caiado, sheathing 
his dagger but standing near enough to the priest to 
ward off any sudden blow. 

Sir, I am Mpondo, a soldier of the king's 
bodyguard. There is bad news. I have come to 
warn the Teacher of New Things in order that he 
may have time to make magic with which to turn 
aside the spears of those that are coming to kill 
him." 

How do you know that any one intends to kill 
him ? " 

With a good deal of circumlocution and much 
wandering from the point the man told his tale. 
While on guard that afternoon at the door of the 
king's council hut, the Mohammedans who traded 
at Monomatapa's court and who had from the 
first endeavoured to prevent the Portuguese from 
gaining any influence over him had come to the 
king and denounced Father Gonzalo as a traitor. 
He possessed, they said, the bones of a dead man's 
hand, with which he could cause a famine. They 
had then declared that he was an emissary of the 
Portuguese who under the pretence of preaching his 
religion was preparing the way for the strange nation 
that had already established itself in some of the 
coast districts. They pointed out that Father 
Gonzalo had been well received by Tshepute, a 


PROLOGUE 


13 


rebel vassal of Monomatapa, and finally asserted 
that the ceremony of baptism was a magic rite by 
which he designed to bring under his power the 
king and all others who submitted to it. The king 
in great terror had entreated the Mohammedans to 
advise him, and after some discussion had given 
orders that the missionary was to be murdered that 
night in his sleep. 

“ And why have you brought the news ? '' de- 
manded Caiado, doubting whether the man had 
some private motive for frightening the priest. 

“ Sir, when the Teacher of New Things poured 
water on my head this morning uttering magic 
words, the spirits of my ancestors came upon me 
and told me that I was his man. Therefore,” he 
continued indignantly, I have risked my life to 
warn him. If the king knew that I had repeated 
words spoken in the council hut, I, my wife and 
my children would die a slow death on an ants’ 
nest. My wife and children are already flying to 
seek shelter with Tshepute, and I shall follow them 
before the moon rises. If the Teacher of New 
Things chooses, I will guide him. If not, let me go. 
I do not wish my skull to be a nest for field mice.” 

Caiado turned and interpreted Mpondo’s warn- 
ing. The old priest listened with a puzzled ex- 
pression on his face, as if he could with difficulty 
understand what was said, and made Caiado cross- 
examine the native. 

‘‘ Do you believe it ? ” he asked at last, turning 
to his fellow countryman. 


14 JOHN TEMPLE 

“ I fear it is true, Father,*' replied Caiado. 

Father Gonzalo opened his mouth to speak, 
checked himself, and began pacing hurriedly up and 
down the church. Then for a while he stood at the 
doorway, and by the light of the still glowing sky 
the soldier could see his face, that had suddenly 
turned haggard and worn, working with emotion. 
Presently he turned towards Caiado. 

‘‘ Let my humiliation warn you against spiritual 
pride, my son," he said in a weak but calm and 
steady voice, a faint smile on his lips. “ But an 
hour ago I was boasting to you of my plans for the 
evangelization of Asia, speaking as if I were an 
instrument chosen of God out of all nations and 
generations to win those who walk in darkness to 
the light. I am rebuked for my presumption. My 
sacrifice is rejected. I am weighed in the balance 
and " — his voice quavered — am found unworthy." 

The old man resumed his restless pacing, and 
for a while no one spoke. Suddenly his bearing 
changed. He stood still with head erect, energy 
and decision in every line of his face. The dis- 
appointed dreamer had given place to the man of 
action. 

‘‘ But this is no time for idle regrets,** he said. 

Our countrymen must be warned to flee lest the 
king slay them also. Tell this man, the only one 
of all those I have baptized who has proved himself 
a true son of the Church, to summon your "com- 
panions, Pedro Dias and Luis da Cunha. Father 
Andre you yourself must summon, for he, having 


PROLOGUE 


15 

been in the country no longer than myself, would 
not understand Mpondo. You will probably find 
him among the ruins in the valley, for I asked him 
this morning to write an account of them for the 
Archbishop at Goa. Return here as speedily as 
possible, and try to avoid notice. As for me, it 
is time for me to say Vespers — for the last time.'' 

Caiado and Mpondo hurried out on their respec- 
tive errands, and the priest busied himself with 
preparations for the evening service. Taking a 
match that smouldered in a niche of the wall, he 
blew it into a flame and lit the altar candles. Then 
from a small chest that contained the church furni- 
ture he took a bell, and, standing at the door, rang 
an unheeded summons to prayer. None came, but 
when, after saying the Ave and Paternoster, he 
crossed over to the right of the altar he was con- 
scious that a hundred eyes glared at him out of the 
fast falling dusk. 

When an hour later the four Portuguese, followed 
by Mpondo, stealthily entered the church, they 
found Father Gonzalo on his knees before the altar. 

“ I have been praying Our Lady of Help to 
guard you to-night," he said, rising and turning 
towards them. ‘‘You are late in coming, senhors." 

“We dared not come before. Father," said 
Pedro Dias. “ There was a crowd at the church 
door. If they had seen us enter, word would have 
been carried to Monomatapa, and he would have 
suspected that we had been warned. Perhaps even 
now we are watched." 


i6 JOHN TEMPLE 

“We must be quick, then. You have a perilous 
journey before you ; fortify yourselves with the 
Blessed Sacrament. Senhor Dias, make your con- 
fession to Father Andre. Senhor da Cunha, come 
to me.” 

As swiftly as possible the two priests confessed 
and absolved the three adventurers, performing the 
same office afterwards for each other. Father Gon- 
zalo then partook of the Sacrament and administered 
it to the others. When they rose from their knees 
he took the sacred vessels, wrapped them carefully 
in the linen cloths that lay on the altar, and handed 
them to his colleague. 

“ Guard these with your life,” he said. “ I 
would not have them fall into sacrilegious hands. 
Now kneel for my blessing before you go.” 

“ But you. Father, you must accompany us ! ” 
exclaimed the others. 

Father Gonzalo smiled. 

“When the Father Superior bids me desert my 
post I will do so. Till then I stay.” 

“ But, Father, consider,” exclaimed da Cunha. 
“ What good purpose will be served by the sacrifice 
of your life ? ” 

“ I can show the king how a soldier of Christ 
and a nobleman of Portugal can die. The noble 
task of converting these erring children is denied 
me, but at least I can prepare the way for those 
more fortunate ones who will come after me. What 
respect would the heathen have hereafter for the 
Church if the first of its servants to come among 


PROLOGUE 


17 

them were to show that he valued his wretched life 
more than his mission ? Now you must go/’ 

‘'Not I,” cried Caiado, inspired by the example 
of courage higher than his own. “Father Andre, 
the holy vessels are entrusted to you, and you will 
need the help of Senhor Dias and Senhor da Cunha, 
if you are to carry them to the coast. You three 
must go. I shall stay. It may be that Mono- 
matapa will change his mind. He is always moved 
by the whim of the moment. Should he do so. 
Father Gonzalo would be left here with none to 
interpret for him. Father, you will let me stay ? ” 

“ Swear to me that you will not needlessly 
imperil your life and that you will remain concealed 
lest my murderers finding you with me should kill 
you also ? ” 

“ I swear it,” replied Caiado reluctantly. 

“ On that condition you may stay. Now, 
senhors.” 

With uplifted hands he blessed them. 

“ Farewell,” he added, as they rose from their 
knees. “ Go swiftly. A sacred charge is entrusted 
to you. Bear witness that I forgive the king because 
of his youth and because the Moors deceived him. 
See that Mpondo is suitably rewarded for his loyalty. 
Dominus v obis cum 

“ Et cum spiritu tuo^'" responded the Portuguese 
as they hurried out of the church. Father Gonzalo 
stood at the door and watched them slink cautiously 
through the village, avoiding the circles of light cast 
by the dying fires at which the evening meals had 


i8 JOHN TEMPLE 

been cooked, darting from one mass of shadows to 
another till they reached the village gate and dis- 
appeared. Then he turned to Caiado. 

Now, my son, it is time for you to leave me. 
As soon as I am dead fly from this place and bear 
the news to Sofala. Do you see that dark shadow 
between the two huts yonder, where the eaves 
almost touch each other? Crouch there and you 
will see what happens to me without being seen 
yourself I shall walk up and down in front of the 
chuch, for I am too impatient for the end to sit 
quietly within. First help me don my vestments. 
I sup with God to-night. It is fitting that I should 
enter His presence suitably attired. Then leave me 
to my own thoughts. I wish to prepare myself for 
my glorious journey.'' 

From his hiding-place Caiado watched the priest 
walking up and down in front of the church. 
Occasionally he paused for a moment, facing east- 
wards, and the rising moon shone down on a face 
that was beautiful with the peace that passeth all 
understanding. Then he would resume his tramp, 
walking to and fro with the slow measured pace 
of one who is deep in thought. 

As the night wore on the soldier's courage began 
to wane. The loneliness, the suspense, and more 
trivial causes than these — his cramped position, the 
cold, and the fleas that dropped on to him from the 
thatch under which he crouched — all served to 
diminish the enthusiasm with which the priest's 
fearlessness had inspired him. He lacked none of 


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‘‘ ‘ Would you rob me of my crown ? ’ demanded the old man 

sternly.” 




PROLOGUE 


19 


the virile courage necessary to take great risks on 
the chance of winning a great reward, and in the heat 
of battle would have met death with a laugh on his 
lips, but the reckless adventurous life he had led 
had not tended to develop in him the spiritual 
courage required by a man who dies for an ideal. 
Were he in the Jesuit’s position, he reflected, he 
would seek safety for a month or two and come 
back when Monomatapa had had time to forget 
his suspicions. As the slow hours wore on the 
glory of a martyr’s crown seemed less and less 
desirable, till at last he emerged from his hiding- 
place determined to make one final eflFort to make 
thw priest see the wisdom of worldly prudence. 

‘‘Father, listen,” he whispered. “Think 
whether the cause you serve would not benefit 
more by your life than your death. There is still 
time to escape. I know a sure hiding-place where 
we could wait till morning, and a path over the 
mountains ” 

“Would you rob me of my crown?” demanded 
the old man sternly. “ Leave me if you will, I 
absolve you from your word, but do not tempt me 
to betray my trust.” 

“I will not leave you. Father,” replied the soldier, 
his courage once more gaining strength from the 
calm resolution of the priest. 

“ Return to your hiding-place, then, and do not 
come between me and my thoughts again.” 

Again Caiado hid himself, and again the priest 
paced backwards and forwards, moving now with 


20 JOHN TEMPLE 

quick, restless steps as if by hurrying he could the 
sooner reach the moment that would set him free. 
At last, near midnight, he stopped, sighed, looked 
round him and came towards Caiado. 

“ They are long in coming, senhor. I can walk 
no longer. 1 shall lie down within. They can find 
me there as well as here.” 

He turned and entered the church. As he did 
so a dozen swarthy figures crept stealthily out of 
as many hiding-places and followed him. Caiado 
heard a cry, a clear ringing cry not of fear but of 
triumph. • 

In manus tuas, Domine ” 

A gasp. A crash and then silence. Caiado ran 
to the window of the church. By the light of the 
flickering candles he could see the form of the 
priest prone upon the floor. His white vestments 
were stained red with blood and the marble crucifix 
that had hung above the altar lay across his prostrate 
form broken into a dozen pieces. For a moment 
he looked, then turned and fled into the night. 

So died Father Dom Gonzalo da Silveira, the 
first Christian to suffer martyrdom in South Africa. 
The account of his death as described by Antonio 
Caiado reached Portugal rather more than a year 
later. As it passed from mouth to mouth it gathered 
wealth of incident till many believed that the grave 
into which Monomatapa's scavengers had thrown 
the body of the martyr was miraculously honoured. 
Supernatural lights hovered over it by night, birds 


PROLOGUE 


21 


sang psalms in the branches of the trees that over- 
shadowed it by day, and both by night and day lions 
guarded the sacred spot from the pollution of sacri- 
legious feet. The tale aroused the militant spirit 
of a people who thought it a virtue to propagate 
their faith with the sword. It appealed especially 
to the imagination of a child who, under the influence 
of Jesuit tutors, yearned for the day to come when 
he should ascend his dead father’s throne in order 
that he might infuse new life into the national 
crusade against the followers of the False Prophet. 
Within two months of his coronation. King Sebas- 
tian summoned a council of priests and lawyers, 
who solemnly declared that a war waged against 
Monomatapa in revenge for the murder of Father 
Gonzalo would be a righteous one. The Pope 
granted absolution to any one who might die in 
the projected campaign. Immediately afterwards the 
Admiral of the King s Galleys, Francisco Barreto, 
was appointed Captain-General and Conqueror of 
the Mines of Monomatapa and of the kingdoms 
lying between Capo das Correntes and that of 
Guardafui.” He was given three ships, 100,000 
cruzados for immediate use, and a promise of a 
similar sum yearly till the conquest of Monomatapa 
should be accomplished ; and a swift sailing ship 
was despatched to Goa with orders to the Viceroy 
of India to furnish the expedition with men, pro- 
visions, horses, camels, asses, and military stores. 
Francisco Barreto called for a thousand volunteers. 
So popular was the campaign that he could within 


22 JOHN TEMPLE 

three days have filled his ships twice over with fidal- 
goes and cavalleiros. To priests the campaign was 
welcome as an opportunity of extending the dominion 
of the Church. Soldiers welcomed it as affording 
a better chance of winning fame and promotion than 
could be found in Europe. Patriots welcomed it 
as^a means whereby a great South African empire 
might be added to Portugal’s other conquests. 
Adventurers joined the expedition in order to obtain 
a share of the vast wealth which Monomatapa 
was reported to possess, and religious enthusiasts 
enlisted in the hope of securing as priceless relics 
the bones of the martyred saint. 


CHAPTER I 


HOW JOHN TEMPLE, JEWEL MERCHANT, FELL INTO 
THE HANDS OF THE PORTUGUESE 

Force rules the world still. 

Has ruled it, shall rule it ; 

Meekness is weakness. 

Strength is triumphant 
Over the whole earth. 

Still is it Thor’s-Day ! ** 

“ The Song of King 

It is frequently the fate of Viceroys, Proconsuls, 
Generals, and Colonial Governors to receive from 
headquarters instruction which they know to be 
unwise, impracticable, or impossible to execute. 
This was the case with Dom Luiz d'Ataide, Viceroy 
of India, when he received from his royal master, 
Sebastian, King of Portugal, not only a notification 
that the supplies and reinforcements he so sorely 
needed were to be diverted that year for the pur- 
poses of the costly and hazardous expedition which 
Francisco Barreto was to lead into the interior of 
South-East Africa, but also a command to assist 
in equipping that expedition with men, arms, and 
military stores. 

At no time during his term of ofiice would Dom 
Luiz have welcomed this command or found it 


23 


24 JOHN TEMPLE 

an easy one to obey. He knew far better than 
King Sebastian or his advisers the strength and 
weakness of his countrymen. They had won their 
supremacy of the East with their fleet, and had been 
able to gain a footing only in such places as afforded 
easy access to the sea. Once only, when they 
marched into Abyssinia, had they undertaken a 
military expedition on land, and of this expedition 
only five men had ever returned to the coast. 

Even in those coast districts where they had 
already established themselves the Portuguese were 
finding it increasingly difficult to hold their own. 
The captains of every one of the isolated garrisons 
that were scattered all round the coasts of Africa 
and Asia, from Sofala in the west to Macao and 
Ternate in the east, sent frequent and urgent re- 
quisitions to Goa for more men, more arms, and 
more ammunition. Every fleet that sailed from 
Goa to Lisbon carried a similar petition from the 
Viceroy of India to the King of Portugal. Even in 
India itself Portugal’s position was threatened: on 
land by native armies led and disciplined by Russian 
and Venetian adventurers; at sea by Turkish cor- 
sairs that swept down from Suez, harried Portuguese 
shipping, and sailed away before reprisals could be 
made. 

At this particular time, the middle of January, 
1571, the command to assist in equipping the 
African expedition seemed almost like a grim jest, 
for during the last ten months Goa had been be- 
sieged on the landward side by 100,000 men under 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 25 

Portugal’s old enemy, AH Adil, Shah of Bijapur. 
So far from there being men to spare for new enter- 
prises, press gangs were ransacking the town, and 
even violating the seclusion of the zenanas, in the 
search for men who could be driven to the defence 
of the bastions. So far from there being food to 
spare, men were daily deserting to the enemy, 
selling their honour and their future at the price of 
a full meal. Every cannon, every falcon, every 
arquebus was in use, and so low had the reserve 
of ammunition fallen that the gunners were obliged 
to use stones in place of cannon balls. 

It was somewhat natural, therefore, that when 
the Viceroy’s Council met to consider the king’s 
letter its members debated how best they could 
evade compliance with the spirit of his commands 
without flagrantly disregarding the letter of its 
instructions. A meeting was convened for this 
purpose in a part of the Viceroy’s palace that had 
once been the audience chamber of the predecessors 
of the Sultan whose cannon were at that moment 
thundering at the walls of Goa. The first to arrive 
were two civilian officials, the Quartermaster-General 
and the Comptroller of Revenue. There was little 
in the appearance of either of these fidalgoes to 
suggest the distress and anxiety that prevailed in the 
city. Each was attired in rich brocade, stiff with 
gold lace and studded with jewels. Each, as he 
stepped out of his palanquin, was attended by a pair 
of slaves, who fanned him constantly on either 
cheek. They greeted each other with lengthy 


26 JOHN TEMPLE 

punctilious compliments, as if they had little to do 
and much leisure in which to do it. Together they 
paced across the richly inlaid floor of the hall and 
languidly took their seats at the council table. 

“ Out of evil comes good. The more men we 
send to Africa, the fewer mouths there will be to 
feed,'’ remarked the Quartermaster-General. “ This 
morning I was again obliged to reduce the soldiers' 
rations." 

“It is a pity that his Excellency cannot ship off 
a hundred lusty monks," said the Comptroller of 
Revenue. “I wish we had as many soldiers as we 
have monks, and as few monks as we have soldiers. 
The city is as full of them as a dog is full of fleas." 

“ An excellent suggestion, senhor 1 Let me 
recommend you to place it before his Grace," replied 
the Quartermaster, maliciously, raising his voice. 

The other turned and recognized the Archbishop 
of Goa, who had entered the hall, and was at that 
moment ascending the steps of the dais on which the 
council table stood. 

“ What were you discussing, Senhor Comp- 
troller ? " asked the priest. “ Some matters of 
finance too deep for the comprehension of a mere 
Churchman ? " he suggested, with a crafty smile that 
all laymen feared, as the unhappy Comptroller of 
Revenue mumbled something incoherent and became 
silent. Fortunately for the latter, they were inter- 
rupted at this moment by the entry of the Chief 
Magistrate and the Port Captain. 

“Greeting, most excellent and illustrious senhors," 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 27 

said the Archbishop to the newcomers. ‘‘ What 
is the news ? I hear that the Ormuz fleet arrived 
in the anchorage last night.” 

Good news and bad, your Grace,” replied the 
Port Oflicer. ‘^The bad is that Chaul is besieged 
by the King of Ahmednugger. The good is, that as 
the fleet could not call there, it has brought on the 
horses, camels, and asses that were destined for that 
port. As they are of no use here while the siege 
lasts, I shall recommend his Excellency to send them 
on to Africa for Francisco Barreto.” 

While he was speaking, a sergeant and a file of 
pikemen entered the hall and lined its sides. Imme- 
diately afterwards the blast of a trumpet was heard, 
and a command, “ Make way for his Excellency ! ” 
A pair of huge iron-studded doors at the bottom of 
the hall were flung open. The sergeant called his 
soldiers to attention, and the members of the Council 
rose to their feet and bowed as the Viceroy, accom- 
panied by two military officers, entered the hall and 
took his seat at the table. 

The appearance of the three soldiers presented 
a striking contrast to that of the civilian officials. 
Their faces were begrimed with powder and sweat. 
Their battered breastplates were splashed with blood, 
and their shabby leather breeches scorched and 
tattered. Such men as these had made Portugal 
Mistress of the East. Such men as these others who 
sat at the council table were to hasten her downfall. 

Be brief with your business, senhors,” said the 
Viceroy, easing his sword-belt and cutting short the 


28 JOHN TEMPLE 

courtly greetings of the councillors. 1 must be 
back at the north bastion before noon. First, I 
may tell you that the Senhor Commandant made a 
sally last night and captured five cannon from the 
Moors, so that we have now more cannon than 
gunners to serve them. Barreto can have three of 
them. There are three or four cannon lying damaged 
at the arsenal that he may also have. His armourers 
must tinker them up. As to the other supplies ” 

The Port Officer began to speak of the horses 
and camels that had arrived from Ormuz and his 
reasons for suggesting that they should be forwarded 
to Africa. Before he was halfway through his re- 
marks, Dom Luiz signed an order for their despatch, 
tossed it over to the Port Officer, and continued — 

“ Now as to men. Forty cavalleiros who came 
out with last year’s fleet have volunteered for the 
African expedition. They thought the pagoda tree 
would rain golden apples into their laps, and finding 
little in Goa but hard knocks and short commons, 
wish to try their luck farther afield. They may go, 
with my curses. They will soon wish themselves 
back again. How many prisoners under sentence 
of death have you, Senhor Aveador ? ” 

“ One hundred and fifty, your Excellency,” 
replied the Chief Magistrate, and one man, an 
Englishman, brought from Ormuz in the fleet that 
arrived last night.” 

“ An Englishman ! He must be a daring fellow 
to hope to milk the Indian cow under our very 
noses. Have them all brought in.” 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 29 

The soldiers filed out, and returned guarding 
a crowd of unhappy wretches, who stood mute and 
sullen, with downcast despairing eyes, while the 
Aveador read out the charges on which they had 
been convicted. They were for the most part men 
of the lowest and most ignorant class of Portuguese. 
Men who for some crime, great or trivial, had been 
drafted into the Indian army, and, arriving in the 
East at a time when there was no special need for 
their services, had been allowed to follow their 
own devices. Without food or lodging — for the 
Government made no provision for soldiers not on 
active service ; without money — for the pay they had 
earned on the voyage out had been embezzled by 
their superior officers; without employment — for 
they could not compete with the skilled native 
craftsmen of Goa — they had had no choice between 
crime, starvation, or sinking to the level of the 
lowest dregs of the native population. Some had 
been convicted of smuggling, robbing, and even 
piracy. Some were accused of selling information 
to Adil Shah's spies. Some had deserted to the 
enemy and been recaptured. Many, enfeebled by 
the vices learned from the natives among whom they 
had herded, had become too cowardly to face the 
enemy, and had therefore been sentenced to death 
on a dozen fantastic charges in order that the Chief 
Magistrate might have excuse for sending them to 
Africa. 

Prisoners, you are under sentence of death,” 
said Dom Luiz, signing the warrant which the Chief 


30 JOHN TEMPLE 

Justice had handed to him. ‘‘ By my clemency 
your sentence is commuted. You will be con- 
demned for life to the conquest of Monomatapa. 
Go to Africa and amend your naughty lives. Now 
for the Englishman. We will have some sport with 
him.’’ 

Bring forward John Temple,” cried the Chief 
Magistrate. 

There was a stir of interest in the hall. The 
councillors stopped yawning and sat upright. The 
soldiers craned their necks to catch a glimpse of 
the Englishman who had dared to enter Portugal’s 
Indian territory. Even the slaves forgot for the 
moment to fan their masters. Accustomed though 
they were to see strange faces in the city where 
Persians, Arabs, and Armenians haggled with men 
from Burmah, Java, and China, they had never seen 
a man like the one who now stood before Dom Luiz. 
Though he wore the long loose robe of an Arab 
camel-merchant, he was like no Arab that had ever 
brought camels to Goa. His face was square, his 
body short and strongly built, his hair and beard 
were pale yellow, and his naturally fair skin, wherever 
it was exposed, had been burned by the sun to a 
bright brick red. 

His demeanour too was very different from that 
of most prisoners who appeared before Dom Luiz. 
Though he had been roughly handled — the heavy 
fetters he wore had chafed open sores on his wrists 
and ankles, and flies swarmed round a cut on his 
forehead — there was nothing craven in his bearing. 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 31 

He appeared even as if he wished deliberately to 
insult the dignity of the court, for when one of the 
soldiers who held him jerked his manacles, the 
Englishman responded with a blow from his elbow 
that sent the man sprawling on the floor. 

Suddenly arrested without just cause, robbed of 
all he possessed, subjected to the irritation of in- 
numerable discomforts — heat, suffocation, foul smell, 
and loathsome vermin in the hold of the ship in 
which for three weeks he had been confined — jeered 
at and bullied by the soldiers who guarded him, and 
then brought into the presence of a man from whom 
no mercy was to be expected, it was natural that he 
met the Viceroy’s contemptuous stare with eyes that 
gleamed with the malignity of a man who sees no 
hope of escape, but is determined through sheer 
spite to fight doggedly while life lasts. 

“What is the charge, Senhor Aveador?” in- 
quired the Viceroy. 

“In the first place, your Excellency, this English- 
man is accused of engaging in trade in the town of 
Ormuz to the prejudice of his Majesty the King of 
Portugal, to whom his Holiness, Pope Alexander 
the Sixth, granted sole dominion over the Indies.” 

“ Since when did the world belong to the 
Pope?” shouted Temple, defiantly. 

Dom Luiz leaned back in his chair and laughed. 
The truculence of this man afforded a welcome 
novelty in the day’s business. 

“ What authority the Pope has, most illustrious 
Englishman,” replied the Viceroy, making a pretence 


32 JOHN TEMPLE 

of courtesy for his own amusement, as a cat for her 
amusement pretends to liberate a mouse, “is a 
question on which a heretic, such as you obviously 
are, and a good Catholic like myself are unlikely to 
agree. If you will look out of the door there you 
will see our warships. They afford the best authority 
that you are likely to acknowledge. So long as 
Portuguese ships control the Eastern seas, so long 
will Portugal keep the commerce of the East in her 
own hands.” 

“ But men of other nations traffic freely at 
Ormuz. I have seen there Frenchmen, Flemings, 
Almaines, Hungarians, Greeks, Nazaraines, Turks, 
and Muscovites. They buy and sell without 
hindrance. Only because I refused to bribe every 
hanger on of the captain ” 

“ Proceed with the charge, Senhor Aveador,” 
said the Viceroy, hastily. 

“ Furthermore he is accused of being a secret 
agent of the English Government. Your Excellency 
will remember that on your accession to office 
Jallal Ud Din Akbar, King of Cambaia, according 
to custom, sent to you as Viceroy a present for his 
Majesty, King Sebatian. This present took the 
form of a jewel well known in India by the name 
‘ Nour Jehan,’ in our tongue ‘ Light of the World.’ 
Akbar’s servants were attacked by robbers on the 
road and the famous jewel was stolen. Last month 
your Excellency’s spies in Ormuz heard a bazaar 
rumour that the Nour Jehan had been brought to 
that town by men ignorant of its immense value. 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 33 

and that it had been sold for a trifling sum to this 
Englishman, John Temple/’ 

‘^The Nour Jehan ! ” exclaimed the Viceroy. 

Why, it is reported to be worth three full cargoes 
of spices! On my word, Senhor Temple, though 
you lost your game, you played for a noble stake. 
Proceed, Senhor Aveador.” 

“ The Captain of Ormuz immediately went with 
a party of soldiers and searched both this man’s 
lodging and his person. Concealed beneath his 
clothes he found this letter, addressed to Jallal Ud 
Din Akbar himself.” 

“Akbar! The Great Mogul!” exclaimed 
several councillors. 

“ The jewel ! What about the jewel ? ” cried the 
Archbishop, impatiently. 

‘^The prisoner was searched and the Nour Jehan 
was not found,” replied the Chief Magistrate, “ but 
this letter ” 

This letter,” interrupted Dom Luiz, affords 
warrant enough to hang a dozen Englishmen. 
Read, senhors.” 

The councillors rose from their seats and leant 
over the table to see the letter. Those of them 
who could read English gave a gasp of surprise. 
They recognized it as the first blow struck at Portu- 
gal’s Indian Empire. Even the Nour Jehan, which 
most of them believed to have been used merely as 
a pretext for the arrest of the Englishman, was for- 
gotten as the Viceroy read the letter to the Council. 


34 


JOHN TEMPLE 


It ran — 

“To His Imperial Highness, Jallal Ud Din Mu~ 
hamad Akhar, greeting.” 

‘^Elizabeth by the Grace of God Queene of England. 

Most imperial and invincible Prince, our honest 
subject John Temple, the bringer hereof, who with our 
favour hath taken in hand the voyage which nowe hee 
pursueth to the ports and countreys of your Empire, not 
trusting upon any other ground then vpon the favour of 
your Imperiall clemencie and humanitie, is moued to 
vndertake a thing of so much difficulties being persvaded 
thathe having entered into so many perils, your Maiestie 
will not dislike the same, especially if it may appeare that 
it be not damageable vnto your royall Maiestie^ and that 
to your people it will bring some profite : of both which 
things he^ not doubting^ with more willing minde hath 
prepared himselfe for his destinated voyage vnto vs well 
liked of. For by this means we perceive, that the profit 
which by the mutual trade on both sides, al the princes 
our neighbors in Ye West do receive. Tour Imperial 
Majestie ^ those that be subject vnder your dominion, 
to their great joy and benefit shall have the same, which 
consisieth in the transporting outward of such things 
whereof we have plenty, and in bringing in such things 
as we stand in need of. It cannot otherwise be, but 
seeing that we are borne and made to have need one 
of another^ ^ that wee are bound to aide one another, 
but that your imperial Maiestie wil wel like ofit^ ^ by 
your subiects w^ like indever wil be accepted. For the 
increase whereof^ if your imperial Maiestie shall addethe 
securitie of passage^ with other pr ivied ges most necessary 
to vse the trade with your men^ your maiestie shall doe 
that which belongeth to a most honorable liberal 
prince^ and deserue so much of vs^ as by no continuance 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 35 

or length of time shalhe forgotten^ Which request of ours 
we do most instantly desire to be taken in good part of 
your maiestie, and so great a benefit towards vs and 
our men, we shall endeuer by diligence to requite when 
time shal serue thereunto. The God Almighty long 
preserue your Imperial maiestiefi 

So ! senhor. Your queen wishes to have a 
finger in the Indian pie. I need hardly point out to 
you that commercial relations between the Queen 
of England and the Great Mogul would seriously 
prejudice my Royal Master's revenues ; but as it 
would cause much inconvenience and ill-feeling 
between two friendly states if your queen were to 
learn that I had taken upon myself to intercept her 
letter, it becomes necessary for me — you realize, I 
trust, the difficulty of my position — to ensure that 
you never return to relate what has befallen it." 

Temple was silent. That letter being in the 
Viceroy's hands and no English Ambassador or 
Consul being nearer than Constantinople, nor 
Englishman of any description nearer than Aleppo, 
there was nothing to be said. 

Permit me, your Excellency," said the Arch- 
bishop, his mind still intent on the Nour Jehan. 

The prisoner should, I think, be handed over to 
an ecclesiastical court. If he be a good Catholic, I 
shall without difficulty persuade him to enter one of 
our monasteries and renounce those sordid temporal 
affairs that cause jealousy between nations. If, on 
the Jther hand 


36 JOHN TEMPLE 

The Archbishop paused, shrugged his shoulders, 
and looked at Temple with a sinister smile. The 
latter uttered an oath. The Archbishop's meaning 
was clear enough, and Temple knew that it would 
be better for him to die where he stood than to fall 
into the clutches of the Inquisition. 

‘‘May the foul fiend your master do to you 
throughout all Eternity as you would do to me ! ” 
he cried. “ Bound I am and defenceless or you 
would not dare to taunt me. Were I free for one 
moment with my fingers round your fat throat, 
there would be one hell-cat less in the world." 

For one moment Temple stood panting and 
glaring ; then, maddened by rage and despair, 
wrenched himself free from his astonished guards 
and sprang forwards with uplifted hands. So sudden 
and unexpected was his action that the Portuguese 
remained motionless, and the Archbishop would 
almost certainly have been brained by Temple's 
descending fetters if the Englishman in his frenzied 
rush had not tripped and fallen headlong on the 
steps of the dais. 

A dozen soldiers flung themselves upon him. 
For one moment the amazed councillors saw nothing 
but a writhing tangle of legs and arms, and then 
Temple was dragged, kicking and biting, back to his 
former place. As soon as he saw that he was over- 
powered, Dom Luiz, who alone had sprung from 
his seat, re-sheathed the sword he had drawn, and, 
sitting down, burst into a roar of laughter. There 
was an old feud between him and the Archbishop. 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 37 

The Jesuits had formerly been allowed to receive 
as part of their revenues the complimentary presents 
which neighbouring rajahs sent to each Viceroy on 
his accession to office, but Dom Luiz had diverted 
this source of revenue to the use of the Crown, 
“which the Jesuits tooke in evil part'* (as an old 
chronicler wrote), “ and said the Viceroy was an 
hereticke.” The Archbishop had supported the 
Jesuits in the controversy that ensued, and Dom 
Luiz, though obliged to be courteous in his official 
capacity, was delighted by any occurrence that 
annoyed or humiliated the powerful Churchman. 

“ Oh, rare sight ! Oh, rare sight ! " cried Dom 
Luiz, as soon as he could speak for laughing. “ As 
good as a bull-fight, if it had but lasted. I cannot 
let you have him, your Grace. Shame on me if I 
let a valiant man burn when brave men are so sorely 
needed ! He shall go to Barreto. A man who will 
threaten the Archbishop of Goa will face the devil 
himself! Senhor Temple, I would give you your 
liberty if I could. Failing that, I can give you the 
opportunity of serving in as gallant and perilous an 
undertaking as any soldier could desire. You will 
go to Africa to conquer Monomatapa. The ship 
sails within three days. I will make an order that 
the value of the goods taken from you in Ormuz 
shall be restored to you. See to it, Senhor Aveador." 

The prisoners were marched out of the hall. 
Temple followed meekly, bewildered by the turn in 
his fortune. He scarcely knew whether death even 
by torture were not preferable to perpetual exile in 


38 JOHN TEMPLE 

a savage and unknown country from which escape 
would be far more difficult even than from India. 
What was life worth, he thought, if he were never 
again to mingle with men of his own race, never 
again to laugh with fair-skinned bright-eyed girls, 
never to see the sunlight dance with the shadows 
in leafy Surrey lanes ? He thought of the com- 
panions of his ’prentice days, and the old familiar 
sound of Bow Bells, and the gay scene in Cheap- 
side — . The memory of Cheapside called up a 
picture of a certain tavern where men who had 
bartered with fur-clad Samoyedes in the frozen 
North foregathered with escaped slaves who had 
tugged at the oars of Moorish galleys, and seen the 
camel caravans come into Alexandria laden with the 
wealth of the mysterious East, a tavern where 
merchant adventurers listened night after night to 
tales told by sunburnt seamen of a world that 
opened wider year by year, tales that had set his 
spirit on fire, and aroused an ambition that had 
enticed him to Venice, to Aleppo, to Baghdad, to 
Ormuz, luring him on till it had landed him in his 
present miserable plight. 

Suddenly a recollection brightened his eye and 
straightened his back. Desperate though his posi- 
tion was, meagre though his chances were of ever 
seeing England again, he still had something for 
which many men would have gaily risked their lives, 
something which, should he ever escape, would make 
him rich for life. 

The soldiers herded their prisoners in a corner 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 39 

of the court-house verandah, fearing to take them 
through the crowded streets until reinforcements 
arrived. While waiting there Temple felt a touch 
on his arm, and turning saw a priest who beckoned 
him aside. 

‘‘ I have come to help you,’’ he said. Speak 
English, so that we shall not be understood. It is 
possible that I may find a way of setting you free.” 

The momentary hope that the priest’s words 
inspired died down as Temple examined his face. 

‘‘You were in the court just now,” he replied. 
“ I saw you talking to the fat priest who wished to 
clap me into the Inquisition.” 

“ I am his secretary,” answered the priest, “ and 
it is he who sent me to you. You cannot know — 
how should you — the goodness of that holy man. 
So far from wishing you ill he is deeply concerned 
for your welfare. He rejoices that you insulted him 
and would have killed him, for it gives him a blessed 
opportunity of setting a good example to all of us 
and showing how a Christian should forgive. Speak 
the word and he will petition the Viceroy for your 
release.” 

“ Faith ! He need not wait for my permission. 
There is a condition attached or I am much 
mistaken.” 

“ The condition is one prompted solely by 
consideration for your spiritual welfare. It is that 
you seek the gracious peace of one of our 
monasteries.” 

“ And exchange one prison for another.” 


40 JOHN TEMPLE 

Or you may have liberty to trade in this city/* 
added the priest hastily, if you will help to restore 
to the Church that which is rightfully hers. Senhor, 
you know where the Nour Jehan is. If you have 
not got it, you know who has. Enable the Church 
to find it, using circumspection lest it should fall 
into the hands of the Viceroy, and you shall have 
liberty and the Archbishop’s protection.” 

Temple laughed in the priest’s face, and replied 
jeeringly — 

“ It seems that the Viceroy would do more for 
me than that. Take me back into the court, and I 
will offer it to the highest bidder. It will be rare 
sport.” 

“ His Grace even promised to endeavour to 
obtain for you a passage to Europe,” continued the 
priest hastily, and a hundred cruzados ” — he 
paused — “ I mean a thousand cruzados. He might 
even ” 

Make way there, make way for Dona Beatriz 
Correa da Mattos,” shouted the sergeant of the 
guard, elbowing the prisoners to left and right as he 
cleared a way through the throng. A palanquin had 
been carried into the courtyard, and from it there, 
stepped a girl who shuddered and clutched her dress 
timidly as she passed the prisoners. She glanced at 
the swarthy faces around her with an expression of 
mingled curiosity and aversion that changed to one 
of frank astonishment as her notice was attracted by 
the unusual sight presented by Temple’s yellow 
beard and brick-red face, and changed again to one 








“ ‘ Ah, senhor, what have they done to you ? ’ cried Dona 

Beatriz impulsively.” 



CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 41 

of pity as she saw the swarm of flies that blackened 
the cut on his forehead. 

“ Ah, senhor, what have they done to you ^ ** 
she cried impulsively. Why does not some one 
dress your wound ? ’’ 

“ Perhaps they are too busy, Dona,’’ replied 
Temple in broken Portuguese. Men who are 
accustomed to hard knocks take little notice of 
those that others receive.” 

But cannot some one attend to it ? Cannot 
the sergeant send for a surgeon ^ Ah ! Father 
Sebastian ! ” She beckoned to a Dominican friar 
who had just entered the courtyard. “ Come here 
to this poor man. Look at his forehead, and see 
how the irons have cut into his wrists and ankles. 
Can you not help him 

The friar touched Temple’s wounds with light, 
skilful fingers. 

‘‘ But certainly. Dona Beatriz,” he replied. 
“Just a stitch, a touch with the knife, and a little 
ointment. How fortunate that I am just come 
from the hospitals.” He produced ointment, linen, 
and a surgical needle from a bag that hung at his 
girdle, and calling to a passing water-carrier for 
water, began to dress the wounds. 

The girl watched him for a moment, and turned 
to go. 

“You were coming to see me. Father, I think,” 
she said. “ I will await you in the palace. ^ 
DeuSy senhor.” 

Temple muttered an incoherent reply. He was 


42 JOHN TEMPLE 

making a hurried search through his scant Portuguese 
vocabulary for a suitable expression of thanks, and 
before he could remember any phrase more fitting 
than the formal “MuiP obrigado,'’ the girl had 
passed on. 

“You are fortunate, my unfortunate son,'’ said 
the priest in a low gentle voice, as he finished his 
work. “ I have heard your story. Though you 
are a heretic, you may know, perhaps, that God 
chastens those whom He loves, and you are 
chastened indeed.” 

He smiled kindly, bowed and passed on into 
the palace. 

Meanwhile the Viceroy's Council had resumed 
discussion of the reinforcements to be sent to 
Francisco Barreto. They had chosen for the 
command of the ship a man whose influence with 
King Sebastian was so great, and whose fitness for 
any sort of responsible employment so small, that 
he proved a constant source of embarrassment to 
the Viceroy, and lest the ship should come to grief 
through the captain's incapacity they had appointed 
as his lieutenant a capable and energetic soldier 
who, through lack of influence and money, had 
grown grey in the king’s service without rising 
above the rank of a common cavalleiro. 

“ There is one more matter to discuss before we 
adjourn,” said Dom Luiz, when the choice of officers 
had been decided. “ I will not allow Dom Vicente 
d’ Alvarez da Saldanha to have anything more to do 
with the defence of the city. A man who has his 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 43 

palanquin put under cover and tries to command 
his men from there is worse than useless ; he 
endangers the safety of the whole garrison. Yet if 
we do not find him some position or other, we shall 
get orders from Lisbon to put him into some post 
where he will do even more harm than he does at 
present. Cannot you find him a post, Senhor 
Aveador?’' 

The Chief Magistrate smiled and shrugged his 
shoulders. 

“ Your Excellency must be aware that in order 
to ensure that candidates for judicial posts are men 

of standing it is usual for them to deposit '' 

For them to buy the appointment. You may 
as well say so at once,’^ interrupted Dom Luiz. 
“ Well, I suppose I can say nothing so long as your 
salary remains unpaid. But can you suggest no way 
of getting rid of him?” 

‘‘ Why not send him to Barreto ? ” 

“ He won't go. I offered him command of the 
reinforcements, and he refused it.” 

“ Perhaps I might suggest a way,” said the 
Archbishop. “ Your Excellency will remember your 
anxiety to provide for Dona Beatriz, whose father 
died last year, leaving no provision for her. She 
has now reached marriageable age, and I propose 
that your Excellency should confer upon her 
prospective husband the captaincy of the garrison 
that Francisco Barreto has been commanded to 
establish at Sena. The command of these garrisons 
is exceedingly profitable, if we may judge from 


44 JOHN TEMPLE 

Sofala, the last captain of which acquired a sum 
of no less than 100,000 cruzados during the three 
years of his office. If we whisper that into Dom 
Vicente’s ear, and tell him that Dona Beatriz’s 
husband has been dowered with the captaincy of 
Sena, I think there is little doubt but that he would 
ask permission to sail in the same ship that carries 
her to Africa, and the girl is unlikely to question 
any arrangement you may make on her behalf.” 

^‘But she cannot sail alone in a ship full of men.” 

‘‘ Senhor Ribeiro is to sail with the reinforce- 
ments, to take up an appointment at Mozambique. 
His wife and son will be on board.” 

The Viceroy sent a messenger to summon Dona 
Beatriz to the Council Chamber. When she came, 
he offered her a seat at his side, and bluntly told 
her of the Archbishop’s proposals. The girl looked 
nervously from one to another of the men around 
her. They were practically strangers to her, for, like 
all Portuguese ladies in Goa at that period, she had 
been kept in a seclusion little less rigid than that of 
a zenana. Twice she opened her mouth to speak, 
and twice she scanned the faces of the councillors as 
if mutely appealing for help, advice, or even sym- 
pathy in her lonely position. At last she turned and 
appealed to Dom Luiz. 

‘‘ Ah, sir, how can I answer ? How can I know 
what is best? How can I decide — I, who have 
neither father nor mother to guide me ? Sir, you 
knew my father. You and he fought side by side 
a score of times. He loved you, and I believe you 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 45 

loved him. Be a father to me in this matter Advise 
me as you would your own daughter, and if you say 
that I must marry this man, I will obey you.’’ 

Dom Luiz sat in thought for a while, stroking his 
beard and looking at the girl’s pleading face. He 
was a bachelor, and more accustomed to deal with 
matters of State or military tactics than with family 
affairs. As he judged all men by their loyalty or 
disloyalty, their fitness or unfitness for their office, 
he had no feeling towards Dom Vicente except con- 
tempt for his cowardice and incapacity. For all he 
knew, the man might make an excellent husband — 
he had never considered what qualities were desirable 
in a husband from a wife’s point of view. 

I know this : Goa is no place for an unmarried 
woman,” he said at last, “ and if I sent you home to 
Portugal, it would be to a nunnery. There are so 
many women there, and so few men, that a portion- 
less girl stands little chance of marriage unless she 
were to marry a negro slave, as the peasant women 
do. Still, I would force no daughter of mine to 
marry against her will. If Dom Vicente sails in the 
same ship with you to Mozambique, you will have 
ample opportunity to make up your mind. If when 
you get there you have decided to accept his suit, 
the captaincy of Sena shall be yours. If, on the 
other hand, you prefer to go on to Portugal to a 
nunnery, ask Francisco Barreto to arrange a passage 
for you. He is as good a fellow as ever stormed a 
bastion, and will help you for your father’s sake. 
AVill that do?” 


46 JOHN TEMPLE 

“ I will go/’ said Dona Beatriz, rising to leave 
the room ; “ but I would ask this favor. Let my 
confessor, Father Sebastian, accompany me. He 
told me only this morning that he wishes to sail 
with this expedition, and asked me to speak a word 
for him. He desires to work in the field consecrated 
by Father Gonzalo’s blood.” 

Father Sebastian ! ” cried Dom Luiz to the 
Archbishop, when the girl had left the hall, why 
surely that is the mad Dominican friar that broke 
in on us the other day and denounced us all, you 
especially, saying that you thought more about filling 
your purse and your stomach than about converting 
the heathen.” 

“ I remember that he compared Goa to Sodom 
and Gomorrah,” retorted the Archbishop, and said 
that it was impossible to spread the Gospel among 
heathen whose spirits were broken by injustice, extor- 
tion and robbery, and who had such an example 
before their eyes as that set by your soldiers. Let 
him go, your Excellency. We have enough troubles 
in Goa without having to deal with fanatics.” 

‘^Why then, by my word, we have done an 
excellent morning’s work,” said the Viceroy, rising 
and buckling on his sword. ‘‘We have rid ourselves 
of this mad friar. We have emptied the prisons of 
the men that were eating food badly needed by the 
soldiers. We have got rid of a score of useless 
cavalleiros. We have, I think, solved the question 
of what to do with Dom Vicente, and the only good 
man we have lost is Senhor Ramires, who sails as 


CAPTURED BY THE PORTUGUESE 47 

second in command, and I don't grudge him his 
promotion, for he earned it years ago. I would will- 
ingly find supplies for a mad expedition like this one 
of Barreto's every year at the same price. Come, 
gentlemen, I must to the walls again. Senhor Avea- 
dor, as soon as the men sentenced to the conquest 
of Monomatapa are embarked, release all your other 
prisoners and send them to reinforce the men at the 
walls. Send the jailers also. A Deus^ Senhors. 

But the Nour Jehan," interrupted the Arch- 
bishop. “ Will you not take some steps to recover 
it? I'll warrant that a turn or two of the rack — " 
“ Bah ! He hasn't got the jewel," replied the 
Viceroy impatiently. “ The story was trumped up 
because he would not grease the palms of every 
underling who begged from him. Do you suppose 
that the captain of Ormuz would not have found 
the jewel if he had had it ? The man's a gallant 
fellow, whether he's a heretic or not, and I'll save 
him from your clutches. Torture some of your fat 
monks if you want some sport." 

And with this blasphemous suggestion Dom Luiz 
buckled on his sword and strode out of the hall. 


CHAPTER II 


IN WHICH JOHN TEMPLE SEEKS TO TURN THE 
TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 

Three days afterwards the galleon — Sao Raphael 
— sailed for Mozambique, carrying for Barreto's 
African expedition such scanty supply of provisions 
as the Goanese Government could grudgingly spare, 
the guns and baggage animals that it did not need, 
and a number of men that it was heartily glad to get 
rid of 

A fortnight later the galleon lay becalmed on 
the equator. As she floated there, heaving listlessly 
on the long, slow swell in the centre of an oily circle 
of garbage that had been flung overboard during the 
last two days, she was typical of the stagnation into 
which Portugal’s stupendous enterprises had already 
drifted. The galleon herself was rotten from worm- 
eaten mast to weed-fringed keel, for she had been 
long in Eastern waters, and whenever she had been 
ordered into port to be careened and refitted the 
contractors employed to carry out the work had 
found it cheaper to bribe officials than to do their 
duty effectively. The man chosen by Dom Luiz to 
command her was plethoric, ignorant, incapable, and 

48 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 49 

so enfeebled by laziness and self-indulgence that he 
was physically unfit for any form of exertion. The 
Italian pilot who navigated her, the Dutch skipper 
who sailed her, and the German master gunner 
who shifted the guns as the ship put about, were all 
so soured by the injustice of their alien employers 
that, had not their own lives been concerned, they 
would scarcely have cared had she never reached 
port. The sailors who handled the rigging were 
sullen and insubordinate. The slaves who swabbed 
the decks were listless and apathetic. 

Of the Sao RaphaeVs passengers, the convicts 
who had been sentenced to the conquest of Mono- 
matapa frankly hoped that the expedition would 
fail and set them free to follow once more their own 
devices, and the volunteer cavalleiros, though they 
proudly called themselves conquistadores,’* thought 
less of the honour of serving in as gallant an enter- 
prise as any that Portugal had undertaken than of 
the chances the expedition might afford them for 
plunder and self-advancement. 

No work was being done on board. The slaves 
and Arab seamen, taken for the most part out of 
captured dhows, having made a perfunctory show of 
cleaning out the stalls in which the baggage animals 
were stabled, were lying asleep among the cock- 
roaches on the lower deck. The Portuguese sailors 
and convicts lay or sat in groups wherever the 
swaying sails cast tiny patches of shade. Some of 
them moved restlessly every few minutes in futile 
search for a spot where they might feel some 


50 JOHN TEMPLE 

movement in the sluggish air. Some, drugged with 
Indian narcotics, sprawled on the hatches, heedless 
of the sun that blazed pitilessly down on them. 
Some quarrelled half-heartedly, from sheer lack of 
anything better to do, and some few, sitting in a 
group on the fore-peak, discussed in eager whispers 
the possibilities of following the example of some of 
their fellow-countrymen by seizing the ship and 
turning pirate. 

In a cabin under the poop that, in spite of a 
burning stick of incense that fumigated the air, was 
heavy with the smells that rose from the camels and 
the bilges, sat the captain, Dom Balthazar d’Elvas. 
He was alone. Perhaps from churlishness, perhaps 
from greed — for he was Solacing his solitude by 
stolidly munchingsickly Indian sweetmeats — perhaps 
from policy on the ground that the less his officers 
saw of him the less likely they woulcf be to despise 
him, he preferred sitting gasping and sweating in his 
stifling cabin to mingling with the cavalleiros under 
the shelter of the tattered awning that shaded the 
poop. 

These cavalleiros were amusing themselves as 
best they could. Some watched a shark that nosed 
among the garbage alongside. Some paid listless 
compliments to Senhora Ribeiro and Dona Beatriz, 
the only two ladies on board. Some played with 
Senhora Ribeiro^s ten-year-old son. A few gathered 
round the grey-haired lieutenant, Henrique Ramires, 
and coaxed him to give them hints from his long 
experience on tactics and strategy and to tell them 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 51 

anecdotes of the heroic defence of Diu, when delL 
cate Portuguese ladies laboured with mattock and 
spade to repair the breaches in the bastions while 
their husbands served the guns. 

Apart from the others the Dominican Friar, 
Father Sebastian, probably the only man on board 
who was contented with his lot, sat reading a well- 
thumbed copy of St. Thomas Aquinas’s “ Summa 
Theologia,” and uttering many a half-articulate 
prayer that his Master would find work for him to 
do in the unknown land for which he was bound. 

The men grouped round Ramires were coaxing 
him to tell them the particulars of an incident told 
of his own gallantry at the siege of Diu — though 
wounded in three places he had left the surgeon who 
was attending him, and, taking his sword in his left 
hand (his right arm was broken), run back to the 
walls to join in repelling a sudden attack and fought 
there for a long hour before retiring to have his 
wounds dressed — and the lieutenant was modestly 
trying to turn the conversation into another channel, 
when John Temple mounted the stairs that led up 
from the main deck, a bottle of wine in his hand, 
threaded his way through the groups of cavalleiros 
and entered a cabin that opened on to the poop deck. 

What is that fellow doing abaft the mainmast ? ” 
grumbled one of the young men. Why don’t they 
make him keep to his place among the convicts ? ” 

I ordered him off the poop the other day,” 
said another, ‘‘and he had the impudence to pretend 
that he did not understand me. Ever since we 


52 JOHN TEMPLE 

sailed he has been in and out of the pilot’s and 
master-gunner’s cabins as if he were a free volunteer. 
The fact is that he brought a store of wine with him 
from Goa, the Viceroy having given orders that the 
money taken from him should be restored, and so 
long as it lasts the warrant officers will befriend 
him.” 

“ Why shouldn’t they ? ” answered Ramires. 

The poor fellow is a fidalgo in his own country, I 
believe, but he does any work that I set him to 
willingly enough. If he prefers the society of 
warrant officers to that of the rabble yonder, that is 
his affair and theirs, not ours.” 

Temple understood or guessed what was being 
said about him, but took no notice. He had learned, 
especially since wandering in the Levant, that the 
position accorded to a man is often very much that 
which he claims, and having to start life afresh did 
not intend to handicap his career by too much 
humility. 

Hulloa, comrade,” he said, as he entered the 
pilot’s cabin, “ I’ve brought a draught to cool your 
throat, vinho tinto, the only good thing. I’ll swear, 
that ever came out of Portugal.” 

The Italian sat up and uttered a string of 
venomous oaths, cursing Portugal, the Portuguese, 
and everything belonging to them. 

“ Listen, senhor,” he said as he helped himself 
to Temple’s wine. Seven years ago I was hired 
to navigate a galleon from Lisbon to Goa. Less 
than half my wages were paid and when I asked for 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 53 

what was still due to me they threatened to cast me 
into the galleys. I asked to be sent back to Europe, 
and they told me that none could leave India with- 
out the Viceroy's passport, which was never given to 
foreigners. Dog and sons of dogs ! There were 
some Almaines and Netherlanders that made the 
voyage with me, who being abused when they 
demanded their wages went over to the Moors and 
are casting cannon for Adil Shah at this very day. 
Had I not a wife in Venice, I would have joined 
them. Were it not that a pilot can do a little trade 
at the ports he calls at, I should have starved long 
since, for to get employment at all I have to pay 
more in bribes than ever I get in wages. Even to 
go on this accursed voyage I had to pay thirty 
cruzados to that fat pig who sits stuffing himself in 
his cabin all day. May I burst if they do not some 
day regret the trick they played me ! ” 

And this fat captain of ours — I suppose he 
knows no more how to navigate a ship than I do ? " 
suggested Temple, sympathetically. 

“ Not he, nor any one on board save the Dutch 
skipper and myself. Without us two all on board 
would rot before they ever saw land again." 

Temple sipped his wine for awhile and examined 
a chart, adorned with wonderful pictures of whales, 
porpoises and sea-monsters, that hung from the wall. 

“ Did you ever hear of the gallant trick that a 
countryman of mine played on the Moors ? " he 
asked presently. “He was master of a ship that traded 
to Constantinople, and was taken on the high seas by 


54 JOHN TEMPLE 

Moorish pirates. He was carried to Alexandria, 
and sold in the open market to another pirate. Now 
this pirate knew nothing of navigation and because 
the Englishman was a skilful pilot he employed him 
to find the galley’s position day by day and give the 
helmsman his course. After three years in slavery 
the Englishman was told to navigate the galley to 
Tangiers, but instead of putting in there he turned 
northwards, having passed the Strait of Gibraltar 
by night, telling every manner of lie to account for 
the length of the voyage, and before the pirates 
suspected anything they woke one morning to 
find the galley at anchor in Falmouth harbour, the 
Englishman swum ashore, and the Port Admiral’s 
ship coming up alongside.” 

The pilot was silent and Temple continued his 
examination of the charts. 

“ It’s farther from here to Europe than it is from 
Alexandria to Falmouth,” said the former after a 
long pause. 

“ But if the pilot, the skipper and the master- 
gunner are determined to go there, and are backed 
by a hundred and fifty sturdy convicts, who I’ll 
wager would rather beg in Europe than fight in 
Africa ! Who knows how to navigate this ship ? 
Only yourself and the Dutchman, who has no more 
cause to love the Portuguese than yourself. Who 
is it that has the most power on board if he chose to 
use it ? That fat captain, who never shows his face 
on deck, or the man who has charge of the guns ? 
Do you think the German is not as anxious to see 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 55 

his home as you are ? Look you ! If the master-, 
gunner were to load a couple of pieces and point 
their muzzles sternwards, he would have the poop at 
his mercy, and all on it would have to dance to any 
tune he liked to play/' 

‘‘We should die of thirst before we covered half 
the distance," objected the pilot thoughtfully. 

“ Is there no harbour at the Cape where you 
could take on all the water you wanted? What 
else do you lack — provisions, arms, ammunition? 
You have them all under hatches. How would you 
get rid of the ship? Cast her away on the coast 
of France, or, better still, take her to one of the 
northern ports, where you could find any number 
of honest merchants glad to buy her from you and 
ask no questions." 

The pilot was silent. Temple stood up and laid 
his finger on the chart. 

“ Is this where we are?" he asked, pointing to 
the westernmost of a line of tiny dots that the pilot 
had made in red ink on the chart. 

The pilot nodded. 

“ Well, then. This I take it is the course we are 
on." Temple drew his finger across the chart in a 
west-south-westerly direction. “ The course to the 
Cape would be so" — his finger travelled south- 
south-west. “If you altered her course from this 
to that ril swear no landsman on board would know 
it, and before any questions were asked we should 
be half-way to the Cape, and if by that time the 
convicts were not ready to stand by you at a 


56 JOHN TEMPLE 

given signal, they are not the men I take them 
for.” 

Who would win over the convicts ? ” objected 
the pilot. The lieutenant is as sharp as a rat, and 
if he saw me talking to them I should finish the 
voyage with irons on my ankles.” 

“ That would be my part. My place is with the 
convicts. Look you, senhor. If you are content to 
live out the rest of your life in these waters without 
honour or pay, say nothing and there’s no harm 
done. If you are the man to strike a blow for free- 
dom and for your wife and children, and I know 
you are or I would not have opened my mouth, 
alter the ship’s course and leave the rest to me. If 
the plot fails, you can turn the ship round and head 
her back to Mozambique and no one but the Dutch- 
man will know you were ever off your course. 
Give me a hint only and I will undertake to win 
over the men. You need not fear to land in Europe 
empty-handed either. Though I am a penniless 
prisoner now I am a man of substance in my own 
country, and I pledge you my word that within 
two days of my landing in England I will pay a 
thousand crowns into your hand. Think it over, 
senhor.” 

Temple left the Italian deep in thought, and 
soon afterwards, with another bottle of wine in his 
hand, made his way to the master-gunner’s quarters. 
With very little difficulty he betrayed the choleric 
German into expressions of ill-will towards the 
Portuguese even more vehement than those of the 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 57 

Italian, after which he led the conversation into a 
channel very similar to that which had taken place 
in the pilot's cabin. 

An hour later, after providing himself with 
another bottle of wine. Temple betook himself to 
the skipper's cabin. The Dutchman's reserve was 
perhaps more difficult to penetrate than that of the 
Italian and the German, his intellect duller or his 
disposition more cautious. Whatever the cause. 
Temple's interview with this man was much longer 
than those he had had with the pilot and the master- 
gunner, and more than once he left the cabin to 
fetch a further supply of wine. At last, an hour or 
so after nightfall, the two men came out of the cabin 
on to the deserted poop. The skipper looked up 
and down the deck, over the poop railing and aloft, 
then pulling Temple by the sleeve, whispered 
hoarsely in his ear — 

“ Now you go forward, my friend, and do your 
business with the men, and I will go and have some 
talk with the pilot. Stay. We must have a pass- 
word " — he looked round once more — we will say 
a ‘ Bloody death to the King of Portugal,' eh ? 
Good lad ! now do your part and I will do mine." 

Temple made his way forward to where his fellow- 
convicts lay asleep on the hatches and the main deck. 
He groped and stumbled among these, closely scan- 
ning the face of each sleeper, and at last stooped 
and shook the shoulder of a burly mulatto, who lay, 
his head pillowed on a gun-carriage, some little dis- 
tance from his fellows. 


58 JOHN TEMPLE 

Jorge/' he whispered. “Jorge; sit up and 
talk." 

The sleeper woke with a snort, drew a knife with 
one hand and with the other clutched a flagon that 
stood beside him. 

‘‘ I don’t want to steal your muddy water," said 
Temple, with a laugh. I want to talk." 

“ Isn’t the whole weary day long enough to talk 
in, curse you ! Let me sleep and forget," growled 
the other, sheathing his knife, but still clutching his 
cherished flagon. The ration of slimy malodorous 
water issued each day to the convicts and seamen 
scarcely sufficed in the tropics to do more than 
tantalize their thirst, for which reason those who 
had drunk their allowance during the day often 
prowled about at night looking for a chance to 
steal that of their more thrifty companions. Deter- 
mined to run no risks, Jorge drained his flagon, and 
with a forcibly expressed request to be left alone lay 
down to sleep again. 

For some time Temple searched among the 
sleeping figures, but not finding any one awake and 
having no desire to feel a knife in his ribs, made his 
way aft again. With the exception of the helmsman, 
who lay snoring beside the tiller, the after decks 
were deserted, for the cavalleiros had retired to 
the main cabin and were sitting over their wine. 
Temple mounted the companion ladder to the poop, 
walked softly across to the stern railings and looked 
over. Like most ships of that period, the Sao 
Raphael had a narrow gallery attached to the ship’s 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 59 

side, overhanging the water and running round the 
after part of the ship from the stern to the break 
of the poop. It could be reached only through 
the cabins under the poop, and was used as a 
promenade by the superior officers of the ship and 
the passengers who had their quarters aft. As it 
was on a level with the main deck those on the 
poop could easily look down into the gallery, but 
those in the gallery could not see any one above 
them without craning their heads upwards. 

The gallery had only one occupant. In a patch 
of deep shadow, leaning on the gallery railing and 
watching the phosphorescent sparks that eddied 
round the rudder, stood the girl for whom Dom 
Luiz and his council had arranged a marriage with 
less care and thought than they would have given 
to the purchase of a horse or the appointment of a 
gunner. 

“ Dona Beatriz,” muttered Temple to himself. 

The girl I saw in the courtyard of the Viceroy’s 
palace. I forgot about her.” He sat down on a 
bollard and ran his fingers through his hair. 
“ Here’s the devil to pay,” he muttered again. 
“ I forgot about her.” 

Temple had come on to the poop to sleep. He 
had no recognized quarters, and, disliking the smell 
both of the camels and of the unwashed convicts 
that crowded the main deck, saw no reason why 
he should not sleep at night on the deck that 
during the day was reserved for the cavalleiros. It 
was a hot night, and as, even had he wanted it. 


6o JOHN TEMPLE 

he had no bedding, his preparations for the night 
were simple. The slack end of a rope hung coiled 
on a belaying-pin at the corner of the poop. Temple 
lifted it on to the deck to serve him for a pillow, 
lay down, loosened his belt, and settled himself to 
sleep. 

All was quiet on board. The becalmed ship 
rolled from side to side so slowly that Temple would 
not have known she moved at all if he had not seen 
the stars disappear and reappear as the tall masts 
swung steadily backwards and forwards across the 
sky. Now and again a horse stamped and shook 
its halter, a camel grunted, or one of the convicts 
lying on the dewy deck tossed restlessly in his 
sleep. Occasionally the voices of those in the cabin 
were raised in a laugh, a boast, or an argument, but 
for the most part nothing could be heard but the 
monotonous creaking of the swaying rudder or the 
dull thud with which the drooping sails struck 
the masts as the vessel rolled. 

Presently Temple heard the door that connected 
the main cabin with the gallery open. A man 
stumbled out and lurched against the railing. He 
roused himself to listen, partly from mere curiosity, 
for drunkenness was an uncommon vice among the 
Portuguese, principally because in the desperate 
game he hoped to play it was important for him 
to know as much as possible of what went on 
among those who had their quarters aft. 

Ah ! Dona Beatriz,” he heard the man say^ 
“ well met, sweet lady. It is seldom in this crowded 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 6i 


shipthatwe can enjoy each other's society undisturbed. 
N ow happily my gallant companions have dispersed to 
sleep, so you and I need not fear interruption. What 
were you doing ? Looking at the stars ? There are 
brighter stars in your own fair face ! Come ! Don't 
turn away. Let me see your face and 1 shall neither 
know nor care whether the stars shine or not." 

Let me pass, if you please, Dom Vicente," 
replied the girl coldly. I wish to rejoin Senhora 
Ribeiro." 

You would not be so cruel to one who adores 
you ! " Dom Vicente lurched a step nearer. “ Bah ! 
I know women and their pretty humours. You 
would lure me on by affecting to hold aloof. Shame 
on you for a coquette ! Such conduct is well enough 
for a child, but one who is shortly to be my wife 
might surely be more gracious. Be not so cruel. I 
thirst for your kisses. I can neither eat, drink, nor 
sleep for love of you." 

Dom Vicente hiccoughed solemnly and steadied 
himself with one hand on the railing. 

“ Come, sweetheart," he continued. “ Have 
done with trifling. Let us enjoy the hours the kind 
gods have given us. Why should we wait for an 
old priest to mumble prayers over us? Let me 
quench my thirst 

He reeled towards her. Dona Beatriz sprang 
back a couple of paces, then turned and faced him. 

“ Stand back, Dom Vicente," she said with such 
steady dignity that for the moment he obeyed her. 
Temple on the poop above strained his ears to catch 


62 JOHN TEMPLE 

every word. “ Listen. A fortnight ago in my per- 
plexity I agreed, before I had ever seen you, to 
regard you as my future husband. Since then I 
have more and more doubted if any misery would 
not be better than to be your wife. To-night I have 
made up my mind, and I tell you this, that I will 
never marry you. When we reach Mozambique I 
shall demand Francisco Barreto’s protection and 
entreat him to send me home to Portugal. Let me 
go, senhor.” 

Temple rose to his feet and peered cautiously 
over the side. 

“ Demand Barreto’s protection ! You will very 
soon learn that a commoner like him dances to what- 
ever tune Dom Vicente d’ Alvarez da Saldanha chooses 
to play ! For that piece of insolence you shall beg 
me on your knees to marry you. Do you think I 
have not tamed a score of such pretty birds as you ? 
By the saints. I’ll trifle no longer ” 

He lurched towards her. Dona Beatriz ran 
back as far as the gallery would allow her, then 
turned and faced Dom Vicente, panting and desperate, 
clutching the railing as if prepared to fling herself 
overboard. A sudden impulse seized Temple. 
Picking up a heavy coil of rope on which he had 
pillowed his head he dropped it neatly on to Dom 
Vicente’s head and shoulders as he passed beneath. 
The tipsy libertine fell face downwards, and Dona 
JBeatriz, too agitated to know or care whence her 
deliverance had come, stumbled over his prostrate 
body and rushed to her cabin. 


TURNS TABLES ON HIS CAPTORS 63 

Temple peered over at the prostrate figure. 

^‘Too drunk to know what hit him, I expect,” 
he commented, “ but if he comes up here to find out 
Til heave him overboard.” 

He hauled up the rope, laid it on the deck and 
again lay down. 

‘‘The girl and I are quits now,” he thought, as 
he settled himself to sleep. “ She was good to me 
and now Eve done her a good turn. Til do her 
another, too, if we take the ship, for Ell take her out 
of the power of that devil, anyway, whatever happens 
afterwards.” 

Towards morning Temple was awakened by the 
shrill call of the boatswain’s whistle. A breeze had 
sprung up and the sailors had been aroused to trim 
the sails. As the Sao Raphael gathered way the pilot 
stepped out of his cabin and approached the man at 
the wheel. 

“ Make it south-south-west,” he commanded. 

“ South-south-west it is, senhor,” responded 
the helmsman. 


CHAPTER III 


IN WHICH THE CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 

The Sao Raphael took a weary time to cross the 
Doldrums. Sometimes a fitful breeze sprang up and 
died away before the heavy sails could be trimmed 
to meet it. Sometimes the ship lay idle for days 
together, unable to move out of the circle of floating 
refuse that accumulated around her. Several times 
each day a heavy rainstorm, that blotted out sea and 
sky as if a shimmering grey pall enveloped the ship, 
broke overhead with a roar that stifled every other 
sound. When it passed, and the hot sun broke 
through the clouds, the streaming decks and rotten 
timbers sent up foul stifling vapours, that reeked of 
garbage, bilgewater, and all the mingled odours of 
an ill-cleaned, overcrowded, vermin-infested hulk. 
Heat and moisture combined to cover the sides of 
every cabin, galley, locker, and hold with green-grey 
mould, to rot the stores of ill-preserved provisions, 
and to spread pestilence among the crew. 

“ Our flesh and fishe stanke, our Bisket moulded, 
our Beere sowred, our water stanke, and our butter 
become as thin as oyle, whereby divers of our men 
fell sicke of swolen legges, sore bellies, and other 
64 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 65 

diseases, and many of them died,” wrote one who 
crossed the Indian Ocean in a Portuguese ship some 
nine years later. So it was with the crew of the 
Sao Raphael, Suffocating heat, constant drenching, 
discomfort, mouldy food, and insufficient water, 
sowed the seeds of dysentery and scurvy among the 
sailors and convicts with such fatal effect that scarcely 
a day passed but Father Sebastian was called upon 
to consign one or more of their number to the deep. 

John Temple took full advantage of the misery 
of his fellows. To men who could not move with- 
out agony on account of the sores that had broken 
out all over their bodies, yet in their misery roused 
themselves to fight for the scanty ration of slimy 
green water that was doled out every day, he spoke 
of the barrels of good wine that the officers had 
stored in the afterhold. To men whose gums were 
black and swollen, so that they could scarcely eat 
the hard beef and harder biscuit issued to them, he 
whispered that the steward's locker contained a store 
of honey, raisins, and prunes, placed on board by 
the King's regulations for the use of the sick, but 
reserved by the captain for his own enjoyment. 
To the Europeans on the lower deck he talked of 
the injustice that all the toil, the danger and the 
hardship of Portugal's conquests should fall on the 
common people, while the plunder and fame fell to 
the officers alone. He mingled with the slaves, too, 
and talking in the corrupt Arabic that he had picked 
up on the caravan routes of the Levant, hinted that 
if mutiny broke out and the power were wrested from 


66 JOHN TEMPLE 

the ship’s officers all the slaves on board would 
share with the mutineers in whatever advantages the 
mutiny brought. So skilfully did he work on the 
passions, the greed, the ignorance, and the hate of 
all, that before the Sao Raphael's sails swelled to the 
southern monsoon discontent and hate smouldered 
so fiercely among the wretched convicts and seamen 
that he could scarcely keep it from bursting pre- 
maturely into reckless ungovernable mutiny. 

Were the mutiny to break out too soon it 
would completely ruin his plans, for he soon found 
that few of the mutineers would agree that the ship 
should be carried to any European port. 

“ When we have taken the ship, what then ? ” 
demanded one conspirator during a midnight dis- 
cussion on the forehatch. 

‘‘ We might sail her back to Europe,” answered 
Temple, pretending to be considering the matter in 
all its bearings. If we flew the French flag none 
would question us — half the pirates out of Scotland 
use it — and we could sell her in one of the northern 
ports and go ashore with full purses.” 

There was a murmur of vehement dissent. 

‘‘ And what when the money was spent ? ” de- 
manded a swarthy convict. ‘‘We should be back 
in a Portuguese prison within the year.” 

“We might make for the Red Sea,” suggested 
another ; “ the Turkish corsairs pay good wages, 
Eve heard.” 

“Until you cross them,” retorted a third, “and 
then they put you to lug at an oar with a black 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 67 

galley master to flog you till you die. No, senhors. 
Let us turn her head eastwards for the Spice Islands, 
where we could take our pick of a dozen harbours 
that the Viceroy’s fleet would never find. I heard 
of them only last year from one of the men who 
joined Captain Diogo Lopez, the captain of Malacca, 
when he turned pirate after being ousted from his 
command. The fool might have been there now if 
he had not tried to make his way back to Portugal 
as soon as his purse was full. Any man who liked 
could take service with one of the island rajahs, and 
have a house among palm trees on the beach, where 
the sea-breeze blows all day, and his pick of wives 
and slaves. That’s better than being a galley slave 
among the Turks, or starving in a European prison.” 

There was a murmur of approval. “ Let it be 
the Spice Islands,” said one conspirator after another ; 
and Temple, who could cheerfully have murdered 
the man who suggested it, was obliged to feign 
enthusiastic approval of the decision. 

The Englishman was now in a position of great 
difficulty. If the mutiny broke out too soon, dis- 
sension would follow as to the course to be adopted 
next, and whatever plan was decided on it would for 
a certainty bring him no nearer England. On the 
other hand, if he let the pilot and the master know 
that the mutineers would not agree to sail for 
Europe, these men would save themselves by putting 
the ship once more on her course for Mozambique. 
He resolved, therefore, on a bold and complex 
scheme : to keep his own counsel, to restrain the 


68 JOHN TEMPLE 

men from mutiny till Cape Agulhas was sighted, 
then to put ashore all the officers and cavalleiros who 
would not join the mutineers, take in water, throw 
the camels, horses, and asses overboard, and call a 
council to decide on plans for the future. If he 
could persuade the mutineers to abandon the project 
of making for the Spice Islands and agree to steer 
for the Red Sea, there would be a slender chance — 
and the slenderness of the chance gave him many a 
sleepless night — of taking advantage of the general 
ignorance of geography, to head the ship north-west 
instead of north-east and reach some European port 
before the suspicions of the mutineers were aroused. 

Day by day the Sao Raphael drew southwards. 
If any one of those in the cabin thought that the 
voyage was unduly long or the air cooler than it 
should be, none showed any signs of misgiving. 
The hopes of the conspirators, especially of those 
four who alone knew that the ship was off her 
course, rose as each succeeding nightfall showed the 
Southern Cross higher in the sky. At last, some 
two months after the night on which the conspiracy 
had first been hatched, the pilot whispered to Temple 
that, given fair winds, after another fortnight’s sailing 
the sight of Cape Agulhas would give the signal for 
the long-pent mutiny. 

Matters were not to go so smoothly, however. 
Soon after passing the influence of the steady mon- 
soons, the wind fell till the Sao Raphael once more 
fell becalmed. Under other circumstances inaction 
would merely have produced the usual crop of 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 69 

peevish bickerings. Now, it gave men opportunity 
to gather together and ask each other why they 
should not strike the blow at once. Suspense and 
the tantalizing postponement both of the liberty that 
seemed within their reach and the revenge for which 
they thirsted, so chafed the convicts that Temple 
could hardly restrain them from breaking out at 
once into unorganized mutiny. 

He lost control of them on the fourth day of the 
calm. At noon, when the men mustered aft at the 
break of the poop to receive their daily rations, 
the lieutenant, Henrique Ramires, came to the head 
of the companion ladder and announced that as the 
supply of water was falling low only half the usual 
allowance would be issued each day till they sighted 
land. 

For a full minute no man spoke. The men 
stood in groups, motionless, as if by speaking or 
moving they would be meekly yielding to this final 
tyranny. The lieutenant stood on the poop above 
them quietly waiting to see that each man received 
his fair share, for a few days previously the distribu- 
tion of rations had been made the occasion of a free 
fight. 

The steward knocked the head off a water-cask, 
then stood looking first at the crowd of sailors and 
convicts, then at Ramires, as if half expecting an 
order. Suddenly a hoarse snarling voice from among 
the crowd broke the silence. 

“ Give us wine, then. There's wine enough on 
board. Give us wine." 


70 JOHN TEMPLE 

A low murmur passed through the crowd as each 
man muttered some word of comment, warning, 
or encouragement to his neighbour. Then the 
murmurs grew into a roar as each man, taking 
courage from his fellows, joined in the shout. 

“ Wine 1 Give us wine ! they shouted. 

Temple, who had been lounging against the 
mainmast when the trouble began, wormed his way 
in and out among the crowd, in a low voice urging 
the men to keep calm ; but if any heard him they 
took no notice. Every man in the crowd, even the 
Arab slaves who had no idea what the uproar was 
about or what the word meant, joined in bawling, 
“ Wine, wine, wine ! ” 

Ramires waited till there was a lull in the up- 
roar, then turned to one of the cavalleiros whom the 
noise had brought crowding to the poop railing. 

Have the kindness to summon the master- 
gunner,” he said quietly. Then facing the crowd 
again he called to the steward, Issue the half- 
ration of water.” 

Before the steward could dip his measure in the 
cask the man who had first raised the cry for wine 
seized it by the rim and with a heave upset it. A 
score of men flung themselves face downwards on 
the deck, eager to swill a little of the slimy fluid 
before it was wasted, but the more resolute stood still. 

At your service, Senhor Ramires,” said the 
master-gunner, emerging from his cabin. 

The lieutenant pointed to the man who had 
upset the cask. 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 71 

‘‘ Put that man in irons and march the convicts 
below/* 

When not required to work the guns or to run 
them out and in, so as to trim the ship when she 
tacked, the gunners* duties were to act as sentries 
over the store-rooms and preserve discipline among 
the convicts. The master-gunner slowly descended 
the companion ladder, calling to his men to fall in, 
but as soon as his foot touched the main deck he 
ran to the sternmost starboard gun, threw off the 
lanyard that held it in place, then, calling to his 
men to help, ran it inboard and trailed its muzzle 
to command the stern cabin. It was the signal for 
general action. As one man after another realized 
that the long-looked-for moment had come when a 
blow was to be struck for liberty, each one, wretched 
convict, or scarcely less wretched seaman, seized 
some weapon — handspike, marline-spike, or belay- 
ing-pin — that would give weight to a blow. The 
gunners loaded the cannon with ammunition hastily 
brought from some hiding-place down below. The 
slaves, realizing that a fight was impending, twisted 
the skirts of their long robes round their loins and 
drew their knives. The sick hauled themselves 
painfully out of the way on to the hatch or into 
the rigging, and Temple drew out of the crowd and 
tried to think. 

The occupants of the main cabin, aroused by the 
noise from their midday siesta, had gathered into a 
group by the lieutenant’s side. He stood at ease, 
his feet wide apart, his hands clasped behind his 


72 JOHN TEMPLE 

back, looking down on the mutineers as calmly as if 
a mutiny were a perfectly commonplace feature of 
military drill which it was his duty to superintend, 
but of which he had long since grown weary. 

Who is here ? ** he said, turning to the group 
beside him. “ Ah, Dom Vicente, oblige me by con- 
veying the ladies to a place of safety below. Senhor 
de Brito, present my compliments to Captain Bal- 
thazar, and ask him to have the condescension to 
come here, then bid every gentleman arm himself 
and come on deck. The rest of you, senhors, line 
the rail and see that no one gets foothold on the poop.” 

Meanwhile the cannon had been loaded. 

A match. Pass the word for a match,” shouted 
the master-gunner breathlessly, as he rammed the 
charge home. 

A dozen voices obediently called for a match, 
but it occurred to no one in particular that he 
should be the one to fetch it. 

“A match. Ten thousand devils! Fetch a 
match 1 ” shouted the master-gunner again. “ You, 
Joao. In a chest in the corner of the starboard 
shot-locker. There’s some oiled rag there. Twist 
a match and light it at the cook’s galley as you 
come aft.” 

Meanwhile the lieutenant’s messenger returned. 

Captain Dom Balthazar has locked himself in 
his cabin, senhor.” 

Henrique Ramires heaved a sigh of relief. 

So much the better,” he grunted scornfully. 
“Take your place by the larboard gangway. Are 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 73 

you all placed, gentlemen ? Is the starboard gang- 
way guarded ? So ! Stand a trifle farther apart 
there, gentlemen. You must leave yourselves room 
to use your swords. See to it that no man climbs 
along the bulwarks. All ready ? Now, each man 
stand his ground. Listen, master-gunner ! lash 
that gun in its place again and yield yourself, or you 
hang within the hour.” 

For answer the master-gunner stamped his foot 
and swore again, turning to look along the deck. 
His messenger had found the rag after some delay, 
but in his haste had failed to light the match 
properly. He paused halfway along the deck, 
puffed at the tiny spark that smouldered on the 
rag, then turned and ran back to light it again at 
the cook's galley-fire. 

Draw swords, gentlemen,” commanded Ramires. 

I give you one more chance to yield, master- 
gunner.” 

It was a tense moment. Cavalleiros and 
mutineers all stood motionless watching for Joao 
to reappear from the galley. The becalmed ship 
rolled heavily from side to side in the trough of a 
deep swell, her cordage creaking and her useless 
sails slapping the masts with a sounding smack as 
she rolled. The lookout man had left his station. 
The steersman had left the idle tiller and climbed 
on to the stern rail to get a better view. The pilot 
and the master stood a little way back from where 
the cavalleiros lined the poop rail, unwilling to join 
the mutineers till success should be sure. Every one 


74 JOHN TEMPLE 

stood and waited to see what the next moment would 
bring forth. At last the tardy Joao approached, 
lighted match in hand. The crowd of mutineers 
parted to let him pass. The master-gunner seized 
the match, blew the spark into a bright glow and 
took a step forward. 

‘‘ Listen, Senhor Lieutenant,” he said slowly. 

I have all your lives in the hollow of my hand. 
It is no shame for you to yield. Choose now. 
I offer you an equal share in our councils if you will 
throw your sword into the sea and join us down 
here. As for us, we are tired of a service in 
which we have all the toil, all the hardship, all the 
danger, and none of the reward. Who should know 
it better than yourself, you who have grown white- 
bearded doing the work of a colonel with an ensign’s 
rank and pay, while pimps and courtiers stepped 
over your head? Join us, senhor, or ” 

He held the match close to the touch-hole of 
the cannon and looked at the lieutenant. 

“ Keep your stations, cavalleiros ! ” shouted 
Ramires, throwing up the point of his sword and 
jumping outwards and downwards on to the deck 
below. He lighted almost at the master-gunner’s 
feet and lunged forwards, but failing to allow for the 
heaving of the deck he swayed, staggered, and fell 
sideways, the point of his sword passing harmlessly 
through the German’s tunic. 

Rush the poop, lads,” shouted the master- 
gunner, placing his foot on the lieutenant’s chest 
and drawing a knife. 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 75 

Stand back ! By the holy cross, I command 
you ! Stand back and hold your hands ! ” 

The mutineers had surged forward and now 
reeled back. Father Sebastian, the mad friar, as 
most of them called him behind his back, wrapt in 
his own thoughts in some quiet corner of the ship 
had not till then been aware of the mutiny. No one 
had seen him approach, but now he interposed his 
body between the crowd and the companion-ladder, 
holding aloft the emblem that, half-witted though 
they thought him, gave him at the last supreme 
authority over all on board. 

Stand back, lest I excommunicate you all.** 
The friar*s usually low and gentle voice rang out 
loudly and clearly. His thin face was flushed and 
his eyes flashed with excitement. Touch but the 
skirt of my habit, and you insult the cross I bear.** 
The men crowded sulkily backwards, each one 
trying to avoid the friaPs flashing eyes. The 
Lutheran gunner, who had paused, knife in hand, 
to see what had stopped the rush of the mutineers, 
saw that success seemed likely to be turned into 
defeat by the power of what he regarded as an 
idolatrous symbol held by a feeble dotard. Reckless 
with rage he sprang forward, leaving Ramires un- 
hurt, dashed the crucifix from the friar*s hands and 
felled him to the deck with a blow of his powerful fist. 

A gasp of horror went up from the shocked 
mutineers. Blasphemy polluted their most common- 
place utterances, and with many of them murder had 
been an occassional hazardous but profitable incident. 


76 JOHN TEMPLE 

but sacrilege they regarded as a fearful thing, a 
thing to be spoken of in whispers, a sin for which 
there was no pardon either in this world or the next. 
Many dropped the weapons they had picked up and 
crossed themselves. All shoved and jostled to get 
away from the priest as if anxious to dissociate 
themselves from the German*s impious act. 

If the cavalleiros on the poop had seized this 
opportunity to rush down the ladder, they could 
have driven the mutineers helter-skelter below 
hatches, but they were young and unused to act 
boldly in emergencies. They hesitated, consulted 
each other, remembered that the lieutenant had told 
them to keep their places, and let the opportunity 
go by. 

All this while Temple had hung back, too 
bewildered by the rapid rush of events to decide 
what action he should take. The premature out- 
break of the mutiny had ruined his plans. Now a 
happy inspiration seized him. If he could manage 
to make the cavelleiros voluntarily submit, it was 
barely possible that they might form a party strong 
enough to persuade the mutineers to carry the ship 
to Europe. Their influence, at any rate, would prob- 
ably prevent any wanton outrage against the women 
on board. In another minute all hope of success 
would be gone, unless he acted promptly. Ramires, 
half-stunned but still grasping his sword, had risen 
to his knees. Temple shouldered his way through 
the crowd of mutineers, threw him on the deck 
again, and held him there. 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 77 

“ Better a live friend than a dead enemy ! ” he 
cried. Bind his arms, master-gunner.” 

They lifted the gallant old soldier to a sitting 
position, and bound his arms behind his back. The 
mutineers began to take heart. The Dominican 
Friar lay senseless, unable to intervene, and no por- 
tentous disaster had followed the master-gunner's 
act of sacrilege. One man after another picked up 
the weapon he had dropped. Still the cavalleiros 
stood passive, nervously fidgeting with their swords, 
prepared to resist a charge but for want of a leader 
lacking initiative to leave their appointed stations 
and rescue the lieutenant. Behind them the Dutch 
skipper and the Italian pilot, the latter biting his 
nails and wriggling with anxiety, waiting to see 
whether the mutiny were to succeed before risking 
their necks. 

“ Listen, senhors,” shouted Temple, in broken 
Portuguese, picking up the match that the master- 
gunner had dropped and blowing it again into a 
bright glow. The guns are in our hands, and 
among us are the only men who can use them. You 
are helpless. Those who have not joined us within 
the next five minutes shall die. Let each man who 
wishes to live throw his sword into the sea as a sign 
that he means no treachery, and join us down here. 
If then he does not choose to throw in his lot with 
us, sharing equally in our councils and our plunder, 
he shall be set ashore at some port that is visited by 
European ships. As for you, Senhor Lieutenant, I 
pledge you my word, if you yield, to make a better 


78 JOHN TEMPLE 

provision for your old age than you would earn by 
remaining in the service of the country that has 
treated you so scurvily. I will count while the ship 
makes a dozen rolls. If you have notyielded by then, 
you die. Gentlemen, cavalleiros, at the thirteenth 
roll of the ship I open fire. No quarter shall be 
given to any man who is not among us unarmed 
before then.*' 

Ramires looked up at the poop. 

If any gentleman among you sees his neighbour 
preparing to turn traitor, let him pass his sword 
through his foul body,” he said calmly. 

‘‘ One ! ” shouted Temple, as the Sao Raphael^ 
wallowing in the long swell of the Southern Ocean, 
fell heavily to port. 

‘‘Two!” The cordage creaked dismally as the 
heavy sails swayed to starboard. 

‘‘ Three ! ” As the shadow of the mainsail passed 
across the deck some of the mutineers shuddered 
and crossed themselves as if some evil spirit were 
hovering over them. 

‘‘Four! Come, senhor,” urged Temple. “If 
you will surrender and bid your cavalleiros surrender, 
you will save the lives of all on board.” 

For answer the old soldier spat contemptuously 
at the Englishman’s feet and turned his head away, 
There was no sign of fear or emotion on his iron 
face, but suddenly he gave a start and, bound though 
he was, staggered to his feet. 

“ Mercy of Heaven ! Look ! ” he cried. 

There was need. To the eastward an arc of the 


CONSPIRACY RIPENS TOO SOON 79 

sky was obscured by a cloud so dark that a white 
sea-bird, flying wailing by, appeared against this 
sombre background like a patch of snow on a moun- 
tain side. Even while they looked the blackness 
spread outwards and upwards as if unseen hands 
were drawing a pall across the face of the living 
world. The sea below it had turned from blue to 
black, and flakes of white spindrift leapt from wave 
to wave like water-sprites fleeing before the advancing 
hurricane. 


CHAPTER IV 


IN WHICH THE MUTINEERS AND THEIR MASTERS 
WORK SIDE BY SIDE 

Death was striding towards them across the water, 
for the Sao Raphael^ every inch of canvas spread 
and with no way on her, was lying broadside on 
to the approaching storm, as helpless as a moun- 
taineer in the track of an avalanche. In that moment 
of common danger mutiny was forgotten. Each 
man acted instinctively according to his disposition 
and training. Some fell on their knees and fumbled 
in their breasts for charms, amulets, or holy relics. 
Some sprang to stations in answer to the skipper’s 
bellowed order to shorten sail. An Arab slave 
scrambled on to the poop and flogged the sternpost 
with a rope’s end, shouting to the ship to rouse 
herself and take heed of the danger. But before 
a single sail could be lowered the full fury of the 
tornado was upon them. The ^ao Raphael shuddered 
as if in terror as she heeled over before the terrible 
strain. The port bulwark rose high above their 
heads. All loose gear began to slide to starboard 
across the slanting deck. 

‘‘Make fast! Make fast!” yelled the master- 
80 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 8i 


gunner. If the gun gets adrift the devil himself 
couldn’t catch her again.” He thrust a handspike 
between the wheels of the gun-carriage, and his men, 
dropping their weapons, hastened to secure it. 

Still the ship heeled over. The bight of the 
foresail dipped in the sea and water roared through 
the starboard scupper holes. Still she heeled. The 
low forepeak almost disappeared and the deck was 
awash as far aft as the main-hatch. 

Now, God have mercy on sinners ! ” cried the 
pinioned lieutenant as the water touched his feet. 
As the words were uttered, with a crack that 
sounded above the roar of wind and rain like the 
first burst of a thunder peal, the rotten mainmast 
split from the deck to the cross-trees and fell head- 
long overside. Relieved of the weight, the Sao 
Raphael leapt sideways and upwards and swung 
her stern round to the wind. While the sailors 
hacked at the shrouds with knives and axes to free 
the ship from the wreckage that banged and dragged 
at her side, the gunners lashed the cannon in its 
place again, and the tardy cavalleiros descended from 
the poop and cut the rope which bound the lieu- 
tenant’s arms. 

“You are under arrest with all your crew, 
master-gunner,” said Ramires, with as much dignity 
as was possible under circumstances which com- 
pelled him to shout into the German’s ear, “ and if 
God spares us you shall have your deserts. Mean- 
while, stand by your guns in case the master needs 
to trim the ship. Two of you gentlemen take the 


82 JOHN TEMPLE 

Englishman below to the cells, and see that he has 
no communication with any one save yourselves.” 

Dom Vicente meanwhile had discharged his 
errand with almost superfluous fidelity. He led 
the ladies below to the purser's store-room, where 
they would have been perfectly free from danger of 
being hit even if the mutineers had opened fire on 
the poop, but not content with this position he con- 
ducted them lower and lower till they reached the 
place, just above the keel, where refractory seamen 
and convicts were confined. Here he found a tiny 
cell, pitch dark, swarming with vermin and heavy 
with stale air and the foul odours of a ship that 
has reached a rotten old age in tropical seas. Into 
this he ushered them, and following, closed the door. 

‘‘We will not detain you, Dom Vicente,” said 
Dona Beatriz stiffly, when she saw that he did not 
intend to leave them. “ Doubtless the lieutenant 
will need your help on deck.” 

Senhora Ribeiro murmured a protest. She did 
not relish being left in the dark with only a girl and 
a little boy to keep her company. 

“ Thanks, dear lady,” stammered the craven 
gallant. “I — the lieutenant — I must be faithful 
to my trust.” ' 

“ At least find us a lantern and leave the door 
open.” 

“ That would betray our hiding-place.” 

“If there is need of such caution, it would be 
well to be silent then,” rejoined Dona Beatriz, 
acidly. Soon afterwards she almost wished she had 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 83 

not commanded silence. Deep down as they were, 
far below the water line, they hardly heard the noise 
of the storm or noticed the list when the ship heeled 
over before it, but as soon as the Sao Raphael began 
to surge through the water weird and hideous noises 
arose ; shrieks that died away in eerie whispers, gasps, 
groans, mysterious sighs, and sudden terrifying 
silences. She tried to assure herself that these sounds 
were due to nothing more uncanny than the lapping 
and the sucking of the bilge-water, the groaning of 
the timbers, and the rush of water beneath the ship’s 
keel, sounds which in a far less degree she had heard 
in her own cabin on deck, but the noise was pecul- 
iarly weird, and she lived in a superstitious age. 
Senhora Ribeiro, still more frightened, felt for her 
rosary and gasped out prayers between her sobs. 
Dom Vicente muttered disjointed half-remem- 
bered fragments of the Credo and Paternoster^ and the 
little boy, too young to derive much comfort from 
religious exercises, began to whimper, till Dona 
Beatriz groped for his hand, and, forgetting her own 
fears, set herself to soothe his terror. 

Presently the sound of approaching footsteps 
gave a new cause for fear. 

The mutineers are searching for us. Help me 
hold fast the door,” whispered Dom Vicente 
hoarsely. 

A line of light appeared below the door of the 
cell. The door of the adjoining cell was flung open. 
Some one was thrown into it. The door was shut 
again and bolted, and the footsteps retreated again. 


84 JOHN TEMPLE 

“ Who was that ? ’’ gasped Senhora Ribeiro. 

Who knows ? answered Dom Vicente, and 
hurriedly resumed his devotions. 

Hour after hour dragged slowly by, and since 
no one came to seek them, it seemed certain that 
the mutineers had seized the ship. Dom Vicente 
gave up trying to remember the Creed, and became 
silent. Senhora Ribeiro’s sobs became less frequent 
and more subdued. The boy fell asleep, and at last 
Dona Beatriz, too, fell into an uneasy, fitful stupor. 

At some time during the night she awoke with a 
startled cry. It seemed as if a cold clammy hand 
had touched her ankle. Putting out her hand, as if 
to thrust it away, she found that a thin stream of 
water was trickling through the closed door. 

‘^Wake, wake,” she cried, groping for Senhora 
Ribeiro’s shoulder and shaking it. “ The ship is 
sinking ! Do you not feel the water ? They have 
forgotten us. Come, let us go on deck. Anything 
is better than to stay here and drown.” 

Just then a shout arose from the next cell, fol- 
lowed by a lusty kick on the door. 

‘‘ Be silent, dear lady, for the love of Heaven, be 
silent ! ” wailed Senhora Ribeiro. If they find us, 
they will murder us.” 

‘‘As well be murdered as drowned,” retorted 
Dona Beatriz ; then, raising her voice, she shouted, 
“ Who is there ! ” 

“John Temple, the English prisoner,” came the 
angry reply from the next cell. “ Let me out ! 
Am I to be left here to drown ? ” 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 85 

The English prisoner ! ” gasped Dom Vicente, 
incredulously. Gradually it dawned on his fright- 
ened wits that if it was the Englishman who had been 
flung into the next cell, the mutiny had obviously 
failed, and, but for his own cowardice, they might 
have returned long ago to less offensive quarters. 
The thought braced him like a draught, of wine, 
relieving his fears so greatly that he scarcely realized 
the new real danger that threatened. 

‘‘Take courage, ladies,” he said gaily. “The 
mutineers have been defeated, and I may conduct 
you in safety to your cabins.” 

He flung open the door, and led the way out of 
the cell. 

“ If you keep your fingers on the bulkhead, you 
will be able to feel your way along. Be careful. Here 
is the ladder. Shall I go first, Senhora Ribeiro ? ” 

“ But the Englishman ? You will not leave him 
to drown ? ” protested Dona Beatriz. 

“ Why not ? ” rejoined Dom Vicente, climbing 
the ladder. “He would have shown us little mercy 
if his devilish designs had succeeded.” 

Dona Beatriz paused irresolute. Twice she 
stepped forward to follow the others, and twice stood 
still again. A lurch of the ship sent a sudden flood 
of water pouring along the passage that wetted her 
to the knees. Then she turned and groped her way 
back to the cell in which Temple was again lustily 
calling for help. 

“ Senhor Englishman,” she called, “ it seems 
they have forgotten you. If I release you, will you 


86 JOHN TEMPLE 

swear to find out the lieutenant and surrender your- 
self to him ? 

The promise was given, and Dona Beatriz, at a 
cost of considerable damage to her fingers, wrenched 
back the bolts of the door. 

Dona Beatriz ! ” cried Temple. ‘‘ How come 
you here ? Pardon me — I am impertinent. Will 
you lead the way or shall I ? ” 

In silence they groped their way along the passages 
and up the ladders that, after they had lost their way 
more than once in the darkness, led them into the 
purser's storeroom, dimly lighted by a hanging 
lantern. 

‘^You will permit me to stay and eat before I 
surrender myself? " he pleaded, ravenously eyeing a 
pile of mouldy biscuits. I have fasted for I know 
not how many hours." 

“ As you will. I can leave you now. A DeuSy 
senhor." 

He fell on one knee and raised her hand to his 
lips, in the courtly fashion of gentlemen of that 
period. 

A Deus e gracias,' he replied, and scarcely 
waiting to bow her out of the room, filled his mouth 
with biscuit. 

When, having satisfied his hunger and his thirst. 
Temple ascended to the deck, he emerged into dark- 
ness as impenetrable as that of his cell had been. He 
could see neither the masts above, nor the deck 
below, nor the sea around him. Only a dim form- 
less blur of light showed where a yard or two away 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 87 

the poop lantern was burning. Suddenly there 
seemed to burst out of the black void a mass of 
gleaming silver lit by a myriad sparks of golden 
light. A wave had curled over the forepeak and in 
breaking set alight a glowing mass of phosphorus. 
As the water roared across the deck the masts and 
the guns, the hatches and men labouring at the pumps, 
were outlined against the gleaming background more 
clearly than a tree is revealed by a flash of lightning 
that darts behind it. The light revealed Father 
Sebastian standing on the poop by Temple’s side. 

“ God has sent that miracle to remind you of 
hell fire,” thundered the Dominican in his ear. 
‘‘ Repent while there is yet time.” 

The Sao Raphael shook off the brilliant phos- 
phorescent water that poured along her deck and 
all was black once more. To find the lieutenant. 
Temple realized, would be no easy thing, nor, if 
he were found, would it be easy to bawl explanations 
in his ear. He decided therefore that he might 
well wait till daylight before redeeming his promise 
to Dona Beatriz. The sight of men labouring at 
the pumps had shown him that the ship was in 
peril. The most sensible thing to do at the moment 
was to share their labour, for life was still sweet 
and Temple had that in his possession which might, 
judiciously used, still win him liberty and wealth. 
To play the man, moreover, might divert the punish- 
ment that hung over him. Having arrived at this 
decision, he groped his way with difficulty to the 
nearest pump and took his share of the labour. 


88 JOHN TEMPLE 

Then followed the agony of a seemingly endless 
nightmare. For hour after hour he laboured, some- 
times in pitchy darkness, sometimes waist-deep in 
water, at a task that allowed no respite. Cold, faint, 
weary, every muscle aching, his head feeling as if it 
would drop every time he bent his back across the 
pump-handle, he toiled with the dogged despairing 
energy of a galley-slave. Twice during the night 
Ramires, asking no question, gave him temporary 
relief by taking his place at the pump while he ate a 
small fragment of biscuit and drank a little wine 
which the lieutenant brought to him and his fellow- 
labourers. Three times he was knocked into the 
scuppers and dragged himself wearily, bruised and 
bleeding, back to his work. 

At last the day broke pale and wan over the 
waste of waters, dispelling one of the worst horrors 
of that awful night. Ramires, who for the last hour 
had been labouring at a pump with two convicts and 
an Arab seaman, dropped the pump-handle and 
looked round the battered deck. 

Where are all the men, pilot ? ” he shouted. 

There's not two score on deck." 

The Italian was standing on the poop gloomily 
watching the procession of the great grey waves, 
wondering what part of the coast the ship would 
strike if the gale held and endeavouring to devise a 
plausible explanation for being so far south. 

Skulking down below most likely, senhor," he 
replied apathetically, shrugging his shoulders. 

Ramires called one or two of the soldiers who 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 89 

were labouring at the pumps and led them below to 
search the ship. After a while, like rats ferreted out 
of their holes, those who had taken advantage of the 
confusion and the darkness to shirk the cold and' 
the heartbreaking labour of pumping, appeared by 
twos and threes and relieved the others, who were 
then sent below to eat and rest. In the stern cabin 
Ramires found a group of cavalleiros sitting listlessly 
round the table. 

“ I must send you gentlemen to the pumps,” 
he said, “ till I have mustered all on board, when I 
will arrange watches and divide the labour.” 

All obediently left the cabin except Dom Vicente. 

‘‘ I am not a galley-slave to labour with convicts,” 
he said sullenly when Ramires motioned him to follow 
them. 

“ There’s no rank on a sinking ship, except that 
of the ship’s officers,” answered the lieutenant. 

Choose between drowning later on or dying now, 
for, by the saints, if you don’t go forward I’ll ” 

He laid his hand on a sword that hung sheathed 
on the cabin wall. Dom Vicente rose sullenly and 
went to the cabin door. 

“ You shall pay for this insolence, senhor,” he 
snarled. 

Oh, begone ! Get forward before I kick you,” 
answered the lieutenant angrily. Then he knocked 
at a door opening on the main cabin. It was opened 
by Dona Beatriz, who made a pretty picture as, 
steadying herself with one hand on the bulkhead, 
she swayed to the motion of the ship. 


90 JOHN TEMPLE 

Well, ladies, I fear you slept poorly last night,” 
he said gently. 

“ Are we in danger, senhor ? ” asked Senhora 
■Ribeiro. 

‘‘We are in God’s hands,” answered the lieutenant 
simply, laying his hand on the head of the little boy 
and ruffling his hair. “And you, little one, have 
you slept ? ” 

“ I was afraid because of the dreadful noises, but 
Dona Beatriz told me beautiful stories of the saints. 
Must I not go to the pumps with father and the 
other men ? ” 

“ Nay, you must take your father’s place by your 
mother’s side and comfort her.” 

“ The captain has been calling for you from his 
cabin, senhor,” said Dona Beatriz. 

“ When the captain takes his place on deck he 
will find me there,” answered the lieutenant. 

“ And what can I do ! ” asked Dona Beatriz. 

“ Better stay out of harm’s way.” 

She laughed scornfully. 

“ So did not the women at the siege of Diu. I 
am a Portuguese and the daughter of a conquistador. 
Find work for me, or I will go and seek it for myself.” 

“ Come, then, if you can keep your footing. 
There are men enough with bruises to dress.” 

Dom Vicente meanwhile had slunk forward and 
taken his place at a pump, but the very first time a 
wave rose towering above him he dropped the pump- 
handle and fell on his knees with a shriek, and on 
his knees he remained all day, crying and praying 


MUTINEERS AND MASTERS 91 

and ransacking his muddled brains for the name of 
some saint who might perchance pay more attention 
than the one to whom he had prayed before. 

There was one who prayed with greater dignity 
and more courage. Seeing that the ship, high out 
of the water though her stern was, was every 
moment in danger of being pooped by the giant 
seas that rose behind her. Father Sebastian had 
taken his place on the poop, and there with up- 
lifted hand solemnly blessed each wave as it rose. 
The men who laboured at the pumps, when their 
backs seemed ready to break with fatigue and their 
hearts with despair, looked up and took courage 
from the example of the brave old man who, despite 
the bitter cutting wind that tossed his beard about 
his ears and spattered him with flying spindrift, 
never throughout that day left the post he had 
assigned to himself. 


CHAPTER V 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL 

For two days and nights the convicts and the 
cavalleiros, the seamen and the gunners, with a few 
short respites for rest and such food as they could 
obtain, laboured at the pumps. At the end of the 
third day a new peril arose. The Sao Raphael had 
been running eastwards before the gale under as 
little sail as possible. Suddenly the wind, that had 
blown with unabated force since the breaking of the 
storm, dropped as suddenly as it had arisen. The 
Sao Raphael^ deprived of the driving force that 
had enabled her to keep ahead of the racing seas, 
slackened her speed and lost way, till a great grey 
wave overtaking her struck her stern, and almost 
drove her under. As she lifted, reeling and quiver- 
ing from the blow, she swung helplessly round, and 
lay broadside on to the waves. 

God help us ! The rudder has gone ! cried 
the pilot. 

It was true. The great wave had lifted the 
rudder right off the pintles on which it swung, and 
now it hung banging against the stern post, as use- 
less as the long seaweed that streamed from the keel. 

92 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL 93 

Slowly the ship swung round, and lay wallowing in 
the trough of the sea, reeling to port till the waves 
poured in a long green cascade over her bulwarks, 
reeling to starboard till the foreyard dipped in the 
seething foam. The heavy rolling sent the men 
staggering across the steep slippery decks, and the 
weight of the foremast sloping far out of the per- 
pendicular tugged and jerked at the stays and 
shrouds till they snapped like rotten packthread. 

“ We must lighten ship, Senhor Ramires. The 
guns must go,” shouted the pilot, and a scratch crew 
of gunners and convicts, under the lieutenant and 
the master-gunner, watching their opportunity, 
dropped one after another the heavy guns into the 
sea. The sailors, meanwhile, led by the Dutch 
skipper, laboured to replace the broken stays with 
hawsers, but before the mast could be secured it 
snapped some five feet above the deck and fell over 
the side. 

Then was their situation pitiable indeed. With- 
out rudder or sail the Sao Raphael rolled and wal- 
lowed at the mercy of the waves, and a great cry of 
despair went up from the weary sailors. Some fell 
on their knees and prayed. Some, mad with terror, 
tore down from its niche the image of Our Lady 
Star of the Sea, and kicked it round the deck 
with foul imprecations and bitter curses. For a 
moment Father Sebastian stood aghast at the 
outrage, then, picking up the effigy, he held it aloft 
and shouted — 

‘‘ Hearken, men ; God in His great loving 


94 JOHN TEMPLE 

kindness has sent us this peril that we may remember 
our sins and repent. Join me now, therefore, in 
prayer and supplication. 

He hurried to his cabin, and returned a moment 
afterwards wearing the full vestments of his rank 
and order, and carrying a marble crucifix. Then 
marshalling into line all whom Ramires would allow 
to leave the pumps, he led them, not without many 
a fall, in procession round the ship, chanting a litany 
as he went. When one litany had been chanted, 
those who had taken part in it relieved those at the 
pumps, who in their turn walked in procession and 
chanted responses. Thus passed the night, in labour 
and prayer, yet the ship sank lower and lower in the 
water. 

At break of day a shout from the poop, Land, 
land \ ” set every man staring westwards, and a feeble 
cheer arose as the worn-out men saw a long line of 
foam where the waves broke on a low sandy shore. 
As the light grew stronger it was seen that the Sao 
Raphael was drifting slowly along the coast on a 
course roughly parallel with the shore. The seas 
were less mountainous now, though still running 
high, and the ship was sufficiently steady to allow 
a jury mast to be rigged, but the treacherous wind 
was light and fitful and such sail as could be spread 
was of little service. 

Then followed long hours of suspense, for the 
current carried them now towards the land, now 
away from it. Sometimes they could distinguish 
each branch and leaf of the trees that fringed the 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL 95 

shore ; sometimes the trees melted into a blur as the 
shore receded. At last the vessel set definitely land- 
wards, and soon after midday the Sao Raphael was 
rolling in broken muddy water, less than half a mile 
from the beach. Slowly she staggered shorewards. 
The lead gave six fathoms, then five fathoms, then 
four. The pilot allowed her to drift another cable's 
length, then ordered an anchor to be dropped from 
the bow, and the ship swinging round drifted stern 
on towards the beach till she grounded not more 
than a hundred yards from the shore. It was an 
ingenious manoeuvre happily conceived, for the over- 
hanging stern was thus placed to leeward of the ship, 
and it became fairly easy to reach the boats, as soon 
as they could be lowered into the water, by a rope 
ladder hanging from the stern gallery. There was 
no question whether the ship was to be abandoned 
or not, for she was already so low in the water that 
the deck was awash as far aft as the foremast, and 
now that she was in shallow water she bumped 
heavily on the bottom with a crash that shook her 
from stem to stern as each succeeding wave lifted 
and dropped her. 

The admirable custom by which the captain of a 
sinking ship is the last man to leave her had not 
arisen at this time, but it is probable that Captain 
Dom Balthazar d'Elvas might unwittingly have had 
the honour of initiating it, if the boats had been 
reached from any part of the ship other than the 
stern gallery, for it is improbable that those on board, 
even had they not forgotten his existence during the 


96 JOHN TEMPLE 

last three days, would have concerned themselves for 
his safety. 

He had remained in his cabin throughout the 
gale, miserable with fear, discomfort, and seasickness, 
yet plucking up desperate courage to shout for news 
whenever he heard footsteps in the main cabin. No 
one had heeded him. He had tacitly renounced 
command of the ship, and none had had time to 
devote to the comforting of useless cowards. 

The sight of land, however, which he could see 
from the windows of the cabin when the Sao RaphaeV s 
stern swung shorewards, roused him to think. 

He had as yet no clear idea of what had happened, 
but since it appeared that the ship had reached its 
destination, he supposed that the mutiny had failed. 
Boats had been launched and were being brought 
round to the stern. Obviously, some one was going 
ashore. Dom Balthazar determined that he, too, 
would go ashore at once. As soon as he reached 
dry land he would, he decided, report himself to the 
Governor of Mozambique, and then — the thought 
cheered him immensely — he would take immediate 
steps to hang all concerned in the mutiny. 

He pulled down the barricade that he had piled 
against his cabin door and stepped out into the stern 
gallery, where a crowd of men were preparing to 
descend into the boats. One of these, seeing an 
opportunity to ingratiate himself with a man who, 
however incompetent and ignorant, had influence 
with those in whose hands lay the granting of 
appointments, stepped forward with a low bow. 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL 97 

‘‘Ah, what a relief! The blessed saints have 
heard our prayers/* murmured the sycophant. “ Your 
Excellency has recovered from your indisposition 
just in time.** 

“ Just in time/* grunted the captain. “ Why ? ** 

“ The ship is sinking/* replied the cavalleiro. • 

Dom Balthazar did not wait to learn particulars. 
He hurried back into his cabin and began with 
feverish haste to ransack his chests, tossing one costly 
garment after another on to the floor. Doublets of 
satin, velvet, damask, and cloth of gold, silken shirts, 
ruffs of cambric, shirts of lawn and silk, velvet caps 
trimmed with seed pearls, were thrown into an un- 
tidy heap, until he found that for which he was 
looking. At the bottom of one of his chests lay a 
tray full of glistening jewels, strings of pearls, gold 
bangles studded with large rubies, rings adorned with 
uncut diamonds, which, in order to have his property 
in portable form, Dom Balthazar had bought with 
the illicit profits derived from three years* successful 
occupation of the post of Comptroller of Revenue 
at Calicut. 

While he was stuffing these into his wallet and 
among the loose folds of his clothes, riot broke out 
on deck. Discovering that boats had been launched, 
the convicts abandoned the pumps and crowded aft, 
fighting, cursing, clutching at those who barred their 
way, trampling on those that fell, infecting the better- 
disciplined sailors and cavalleiros with their madness, 
till there was scarcely a man on board who was not 
fighting to gain a place in the boats. As soon as the 

H 


98 JOHN TEMPLE 

boat that was launched first had been brought under 
the overhanging stern, men clambered down into it, 
and, borne down by the weight of those that followed 
them, tumbled and sprawled in helpless confusion 
across the thwarts. The sailors who manned it tried 
to cast off in vain, for the painter was made fast to 
a ring in the bow of the boat, and this was buried 
under a heap of writhing men. At last a huge 
convict, who, fighting a way by sheer strength 
through the dense crowd in the main cabin, had 
reached the stern gallery, unable to bear down the 
last man who barred his way, lifted him bodily in 
his arms and flung him overboard. The poor 
wretch turned in the air, pitched on the gunwale of 
the crowded boat, and capsized it. Some of its 
occupants sank, some swam to the ship’s side and 
clambered on board again, some tried to climb into 
the other boats but were beaten oflF by the sailors 
who manned them, who, having no mind to drown, 
clubbed their oars and struck at the heads of the 
swimmers, or drew their knives and stabbed at the 
hands that clutched the gunwales. 

At this moment occurred the only recorded 
instance in which Captain Dom Balthazar d’Elvas 
acted with energy and decision. He had stepped 
through the door that opened from his cabin on to 
the stern gallery just in time to witness the swamping 
of the boat. Returning, he snatched up his sword, 
and then, helped by his great weight, hacked and 
hewed a way through the throng, calling to the 
cavalleiros to clear the gallery. His action turned 


THE WRECK OF THE SAG RAPHAEL 99 

the scale in favour of those who had striven to 
maintain order. Ramires, who had been pent up in 
a corner of the poop-deck by the rush of convicts, 
clambered over the stern followed by some of the 
cavalleiros, and dropped into the gallery by the side 
of his superior officer. Together they drove the 
convicts back from the gallery into the main cabin, 
and, helped by all who realized the madness of dis- 
order, gradually cleared the poop. Most of those 
who sided with the officers were armed, and the 
convicts, fighting with empty hands, were, after five 
minutes' scuffle, driven forward on to the main deck. 

Make a line across the deck, senhors,” cried 
Ramires, as the last man was driven forward. “ Let 
no man come abaft the mainmast. As for you 
vermin, if you want to save your worthless lives 
you had best get back to the pumps. How's this ? 
What do you here, Englishman ? Who released 
you ? " 

In the thick of the riot, realizing that there was 
little chance of his life being saved unless order were 
restored. Temple had seized a belaying-pin, had 
wielded it on the side of order and discipline, and in 
the skirmish had chanced to fight by the lieutenant's 
side. 

‘‘ Dona Beatriz Correa da Mattos released me 
lest 1 should drown in the hold, pledging me to 
yield myself to you, but till this moment I have had 
no opportunity. Accept my submission, senhor." 

“ And now you wish to curry favour ? " 

‘‘Now I wish to save my life." 


loo JOHN TEMPLE 

^^And so you shall. Go to the stern gallery, 
and see that no one enters the boats without per- 
mission. If you act faithfully, I will see that you 
do not hang.'' 

The lieutenant needed some one for the post 
that he had assigned to Temple, but he believed 
that there was no one on board who could be trusted 
not to sneak away into the boats if opportunity 
offered. Temple's life, however, was forfeit. Even 
if he reached the shore, he would be hanged sooner 
or later when order had been restored, unless some 
one befriended him. Therefore, of all the men on 
board, he was probably the least unreliable. It was 
a desperate expedient to trust one who was a 
foreigner, a convict, and a mutineer, but the occasion 
was urgent. Ramires turned to see that those who 
had fought to restore order had taken up the 
stations assigned to them, and a minute afterwards 
followed the Englishman to the stern gallery. 

Where is the captain ? " he demanded. 

‘Hn that boat, senhor," replied Temple, pointing 
to the second boat, already half-way. ashore. They 
pushed off before I got here." 

Did he say nothing ? Did he leave no 
orders ? " 

‘‘ None, except that his luggage was to be sent 
ashore in the next boat." 

“ May he die of leprosy ! May ten thousand 
devils torment his soul throughout all eternity ! 
Go and tell the ladies to come here. Tell Senhor 
Ribeiro that he is to accompany his wife, and Dom 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL loi 


Vicente, his betrothed. Call also Father Sebastian 
and Senhors Dias, da Cunha, de Sousa, de Brito, 
Furtado, and Ferao. That will be enough for one 
boat-load.” 

None of the men who received the lieutenants 
message hesitated to accept their good fortune 
except Father Sebastian. Temple found the old 
man standing on the main deck, surrounded by a 
group of kneeling men who were waiting to confess 
such of their chief sins as they could remember at 
the moment and receive a hurried absolution at his 
hands. 

Convey my thanks to Senhor Ramires,” said 
the friar with a smile, “ and tell him that the souls 
of these men are of more value than my poor life. 
1 cannot leave the ship till these sinful children of 
mine have made their peace with God. Stay, it may 
be that I shall not reach the shore.” He stepped 
into his cabin and returned carrying his marble 
crucifix, ‘‘ Bid the lieutenant send this ashore. It 
will comfort and help the survivors in this heathen 
land.” 

The friar’s care for the spiritual needs of his flock 
most providentially reminded the lieutenant that no 
one had taken thought for the material needs of the 
survivors. Hurriedly some bags of biscuit, a couple 
of arquebuses with ammunition, and, on the pilot’s 
suggestion, an azimuth, an astrolabe, a chart of the 
East African coast, and a compass, were brought and 
lowered into the boat. 

It was well for those who had gone ashore that 


102 JOHN TEMPLE 

this was done, for before either of the boats returned 
to the ship a huge wave lifted the Sao Raphael and 
flung her down on the hard shelving bottom with a 
crash that broke her back. The deck split in a dozen 
places, the bulwarks bulged and gaped. The ship 
seemed to crumble away. It sometimes happens that 
a sudden catastrophe is so novel, so far removed from 
the range of everyday experience, that it arouses for 
the moment no emotion more poignant than mild 
bewilderment. T emple regarded the bursting planks 
with curious indifference, as if the sight were in- 
teresting enough in itself, but one which did not 
concern him personally. The deck glided from 
under him and, with puzzled apathy, he saw the 
green foam-crowned water rising over his head till 
the grip of death at his throat roused him to fight 
for air and life. Fiercely he struggled upward till 
his head rose above the foam. For a moment, as he 
rose on the crest of a wave, he could see the tree- 
fringed shore, and men standing waist-deep in broken 
water, ready to grasp any swimmer they could reach. 
Then he fell in the trough of the waves and the 
green mounds of water shut him in on every side. 
Once a desperate swimmer clutched him and he 
could read the agony in the wide despairing eyes as 
he thrust him fiercely away. The arch of a breaking 
wave curved over and fell on him, thrusting him 
downwards and forwards till his helpless body 
bumped on the bottom, then the underwash seized 
and drew him backwards. Six times a wave lifted 
him, and gave him a precious moment of breathing 


THE WRECK OF THE SAO RAPHAEL 103 

space and hurled him forwards. Six times the 
savage underwash dragged him back. As for the 
seventh time he was flung forward he was conscious 
that a lean tawny figure was struggling towards him. 
A brown hand clutched his hair. He felt himself 
dragged through the foam into shallow water. He 
staggered to his feet, ploughed through the water 
that reached his waist, his knees, and then his ankles, 
reached the shore and fell face downwards on soft 
dry sand. 


CHAPTER VI 


IN WHICH JOHN TEMPLE IS ADMITTED TO THE 
COUNCILS OF THE CAVALLEIROS 

He came, the famous one from over the sea. 

The Stranger. 

He came without our seeing him, 

v* f* The Stranger. 

Concealed by the branch of a tree. 

The Stranger. 

By the branch of a yellow wood tree. 

The Stranger.” 

7 “ ranslation of a native South African song supposed to refer to 

the first coming of the Portuguese, 

At sunrise on the morning after the Sao Raphael 
had been cast ashore, Dabulamanzi, headman of a 
small native community that had its home, in the 
year 1571 a.d., on the north bank of the Umzimkulu 
River, left his beehive hut and climbed to the top 
of the hill on whose side it stood for his morning 
sun-bath. He might have had it, of course, at the 
gate of his cattle kraal, but he preferred to await his 
breakfast sitting on an outcrop of granite which 
commanded a view of the seashore, the river, and 
the hills above them, for from there he could keep a 
curious eye on the doings not only of his own people 
but of his neighbours on the other side of the valley. 

104 

/ 



TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 105 

Dabulamanzi looked west and saw with satis- 
faction that his cattle were feeding nicely, head 
towards the sun as cattle should, and that the herd 
boys for a wonder were not disturbing them by 
making the calves run races. He looked south, and 
it may be, though this is improbable, rejoiced in the 
wonderful beauty of the view. The hill on which 
he sat sloped down to a valley densely clothed on 
its lower levels with lofty dark-green trees. The 
river, gleaming like silver in the morning sun, raced 
round a bluff of naked white marble that hung 
sheer over the water. Beyond the river and above 
the level of the timber, three or four little circles of 
huts, each surrounding a cattle kraal, stood amid 
fields of bright green corn and beyond, cloud shadows, 
the relics of the storm, chased each other across the 
faces of treeless hills that rose tier on tier towards 
what are now known as the Drakensberg Mountains. 
Suddenly across his subconscious mind, induced 
perhaps by the need for breakfast, flashed a desire 
for oysters and mussels, and he remembered that it 
was the period of the month in which, owing to 
spring tides, these delicacies could be obtained in the 
greatest quantities. He resolved to visit the shore 
at mid-day, if weather conditions permitted, and have 
a meal of these shell fish, accompanied by a wife 
or two to gather them for him. A glance seaward, 
however, showed that this project was impossible. 
Though the wind had sunk to a calm, a hundred 
yards and more from the beach the sea was breaking 
in great green mile-wide waves, and filling the space 


io6 JOHN TEMPLE 

between them and the shore with a seething flurry 
of snow-white surge. The tide had been falling for 
over an hour and had begun to uncover the black 
rocks among which the oysters were to be found, 
but every seventh wave that broke flung a chaos of 
broken water, a man’s height deep, whirling over 
and past them shoreward till far above high-water 
mark it wetted the very roots of the grass. Dabu- 
lamanzi knew that none of his wives would venture 
even knee-deep into the sea that day. 

The appearance of the shore, however, glutton 
though he was, drove all thoughts of oysters from 
his mind, for it was dotted with the figures of strange 
men, who Dabulamanzi immediately guessed to be the 
mermen of his mother’s folk-tales. That mermen 
occasionally came out of the sea and had inter- 
course for awhile with ordinary people was a matter 
of common knowledge in East Africa before Vasco 
da Gama dropped anchor at the mouth of the 
Zambesi, perhaps before the visit of those men, 
whoever they were, who left Nankin pottery and 
Chinese coins behind them for twentieth century 
archaeologists to wrangle over, perhaps even before 
the servants of Hiram, “ shipmen that had know- 
ledge of the sea,” went with the servants of Solomon 
to Ophir, or Pharaoh-Necho’s Phoenician sailors 
circumnavigated the continent. 

Dabulamanzi had never seen any people save 
those of his own race, but he had often heard about 
mermen. His knowledge of them was scanty but 
precise. They concealed their limbs with a peculiar 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 107 

material that was neither the skin of any known 
beast nor the bark of any known tree ; their hair, 
no doubt from contact with their natural element, 
was long and lank instead of short and woolly like 
that of every man whom Dabulamanzi had ever 
seen ; on approaching the shore they concealed 
themselves in the hollow trunk of a great tree (a 
ship is not an easy thing to describe to a man who 
has never seen one), and during their stay on land, 
being foolish people, they exchanged valuable knives 
and beautiful beads for such worthless commodities 
as gold and ivory. 

Dabulamanzi was too far from the beach for his 
keen eyes to discern whether the hair of the strangers 
was lank and long, but the limbs of most of them 
were certainly concealed with a material that was 
new to him, and the stern of the Sao Raphael jutting 
out of the boiling surge was sufficiently like a tree- 
trunk to satisfy an uncritical mind. A European 
might have been alarmed at so unusual a sight, but 
Dabulamanzi lived in such chronic fear of the Unseen 
that he had not a tremor to spare for anything that 
was visible in the light of day. He. was, on the 
contrary, highly delighted. A new experience was 
always pleasant. Though he had no gold, he knew 
where to find quantities of ivory, and he badly 
wanted iron, for owing to wars among the tribes 
to the north of him his people had not for 
many months been able to exchange cattle for 
this most valuable of all commodities. Mermen’s 
iron, moreover, was reputed to be better than that 


io8 JOHN TEMPLE 

obtainable from those tribes who smelted it out of 
rocks. 

The headman decided that he would stroll down 
to the beach and have a closer look at the strangers 
as soon as he had eaten his morning meal. Mean- 
while he endeavoured to find out whether they 
actually were mermen. After taking a deep breath 
he shouted a conventional greeting, making momen- 
tary pauses between each long-drawn syllable. 

“ Sa ku bona, ’makos ? ” 

The beach was fully a mile away. Dabulamanzi 
was accustomed to talk every day of his life with 
men as keen of hearing and as strong of lung as 
himself over greater distances than this, but the 
Portuguese naturally made no reply to a salutation 
in an unknown tongue that must have seemed, if 
any one heard it, to have come from the clouds. 

O, strangers, what do you seek ? ” he called 
again, and again receiving no reply continued, Do 
you wish to barter ? What have you brought ? 

By this time every Kaffir within a mile or so of 
Dabulamanzi was taking an interest in the one-sided 
conversation. Women paused on their way uphill 
with the day's supply of water to ask the news, and 
on receiving particulars from Dabulamanzi, passed 
it on to their sisters hoeing in the cornfields. Men 
who were digging game-pits among the timber in 
the valley came out into the open to listen, and 
passed it on to the boys herding cattle on the 
hillside. It passed across and across the valley, 
reached the men who were loafing in the kraals on 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 109 

the hilltops and raced inland, if not with telegraphic 
speed, at least as fast as a horse could gallop. 

With the exception of the herdboys, who dared 
not leave the cattle lest they should get among the 
corn, every member of the community promptly 
decided to abandon work for the day and visit the 
strangers, and before Dabulamanzi’s chief wife had 
brought him his porridge, long strings of men and 
women, laughing, chatting, and singing, were con- 
verging towards the headman’s kraal. 

The survivors of the wreck of the Sao Raphael 
had come ashore on a tongue of sand that lies 
between the Umzimkulu River and the sea. As 
soon as the fading light compelled them to abandon 
hope of rescuing any more swimmers, each man 
threw himself down where he stood and lay motion- 
less throughout the night, utterly exhausted with 
the fearful struggles of the last three days. As the 
rising sun warmed them one by one back to life and 
consciousness, some limped stiffly into the shade of 
a palm thicket that clothed the crest of the sandbank. 
Some sat dejectedly head in hand and elbow on 
knee, conscious of nothing but pain and misery and 
utter weariness. Some, stronger and more energetic 
than the rest, walked listlessly along the shore, 
examining the faces of the dead that the receding 
tide had left stranded on the beach. When, some 
three hours after sunrise, for Africans seldom do 
anything hurriedly, Dabulamanzi and his people 
reached the beach, they found ninety-six listless men 
sitting and lying in little groups under the palms. 


no JOHN TEMPLE 

too apathetic to resent their intrusion or even to 
make any attempt to return the boisterous salutations 
of their visitors. 

Natives of Africa, unfortunately, long ago lost 
the reputation for blamelessness which Homer 
attributed to them, a reputation which perhaps they 
never deserved, and it is to be supposed that they 
have degenerated since the days when the divine 
Zeus abandoned interest in the Trojan war in order 
to banquet with them, but Dabulamanzi’s people had 
retained at least the virtue of kindly hospitality. 
Each visitor to the beach singled out one of the 
shipwrecked men, and clapping his hands in saluta- 
tion, offered with courteous gestures a small present 
of food that he or she had brought. The viands 
offered — calabashes of sour milk, dishes of millet 
cakes, pots full of roasted locusts, lumps of all-too- 
savoury vension, and skewers on which field-mice 
roasted whole had been neatly spitted — if somewhat 
less dainty than might be expected of the descendants 
of men who once entertained the greater gods, were, 
with the possible exception of the last item, eagerly 
accepted by the famished Portuguese. Though they 
had eaten nothing but dry biscuit and but little of 
that during the past three days, the shipwrecked 
men, until the coming of the Kaffirs, had been too 
miserable to realize that they were hungry, but the 
smell of food revived them. . Strength and animation 
came back to them gradually as they ate, and with 
returning strength came increased appetite, until 
men who twenty minutes before had scarcely been able 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 


III 


to lift their heads, devoured the food set before them 
to the last locust, washed down this somewhat dry 
and prickly food with great gulps of sour milk, and 
then rose to their feet to find out who else was alive. 

It was a depressing task. Those who had ob- 
tained places in the boats, twenty in number, had 
all safely landed. Of those who had been on board 
when the ship broke up, out of one hundred and 
fifty convicts thirty had reached the shore alive ; 
of forty cavalleiros, eighteen had been saved ; of 
the master-gunner and his crew only one, a Portu- 
guese mulatto known as Black Jorge, had survived. 
Six sailors had reached the land besides the eight 
who had manned the boats, and of the slaves, with 
the exception of nine Hindoo lascars and one Arab, 
the man who had hauled Temple ashore, every one 
had been drowned. The lieutenant, the Dominican 
Friar, and the pilot, having found wreckage to cling 
to, had been washed ashore alive, the former much 
hampered by his sword, to which, as the only property 
he had in the world, he had obstinately clung. Of 
the rest of the crew, the Dutch skipper, the boat- 
swain, the quartermaster, cooper, carpenters, steward, 
surgeon, and purser, not one was saved. 

The first corporate action of the survivors was 
initiated by Father Sebastian. Calling them together, 
he spoke of the duty of thanking God for their 
deliverance, and then, after bidding them take off 
their shoes, led them barefoot in procession along 
the beach chanting the Litany and the Te Deum, 
The impromptu penitential service aroused little 


1 12 JOHN TEMPLE 

devotional enthusiasm. Most of the men were too 
heartsick to feel for the time being much gratitude 
for their escape or cheerfully to undergo the additional 
pain involved by walking barefoot over hot sand 
and sharp rocks. When the last Amen had been 
said and the men had donned their shoes again, 
Ramires counted them and set them to different 
tasks. 

The seamen made a shelter for the women out 
of broken spars and fragments of sails that had been 
washed ashore. The pilot adjusted his cumbrous 
instruments and found the altitude of the sun. The 
convicts and slaves scraped shallow trenches in the 
sand and laid the corpses of the drowned therein, 
while Father Sebastian read the last offices for the 
dead over the rude graves. The cavalleiros spread 
the gunpowder to dry in the sun and counted the 
scanty store of biscuits, and the women, sacrificing 
portions of their own clothes for the purpose,, 
dressed the wounds of those who had been injured 
in the last fearful struggle for life. 

When there was nothing further that could be 
done at the moment Ramires called the survivors 
together (Dom Balthazar, the captain, had appro- 
priated the first shelter the seamen had made, and 
promptly gone to sleep again). 

Attend to me, men,” he said. ‘‘ It has pleased 
God to visit our sins with a heavy punishment, and 
each one of us must play the man if we hope to see 
our fellow-countrymen once more. If the pilot be 
right in his reckoning, we are in the Land of Natal.” 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 113 

The Land of Natal ! gasped one of the 
cavalleiros who had more knowledge of African 
geography than was common in those days. ^^How 
far from Mozambique ? ’’ 

Sofala is the nearest of our settlements, and 
that is more than two hundred leagues away,” replied 
the lieutenant. 

A groan of horror rose from all around. Some 
ejaculated prayers to the saints, some cursed them 
with equa| fluency. Some stared at each other in 
silent despair. 

“ Therefore, we must remember the great deeds 
of our fathers,” continued the lieutenant steadily, 
who always were bravest when danger was greatest. 
Whether we shall ever reach Sofala is known to 
God alone, but I, who am a man, and a man well 
stricken in years, say this — that we will try, God 
helping us. We have enough food to give each 
man one biscuit daily for eight days. After that 
the saints must provide, or we die. To-morrow, 
each man who is not needed to guard the camp 
must go into the forest and search for fruits that 
may be eaten. Whatever any man finds he must 
bring to me to add to the common stock. The 
man that keeps anything back dies that same hour, 
be he convict, slave, or cavalleiro. One word more. 
These Kaffirs,” he pointed to Dabulamanzi and his 
people who had taken a keen and hilarious interest 
in the penitential procession, but now, becoming 
bored with the proceedings of the mermen, were 
beginning to disperse, “have proved our friends. 


1 14 JOHN TEMPLE 

See to it that we do nothing to make them our 
enemies, for I believe our lives are in their hands. 
Now let us rest again for we know not what toil is 
before us.” 

Temple’s experience of travel in the Syrian deserts 
had taught him how to make himself comfortable 
under adverse circumstances. He made himself a 
soft bed with fronds fallen from the palm trees, laid 
himself down and slept throughout the rest of that 
day and the greater part of the night. He might 
have slept till morning but that an hour or so before 
dawn he was awakened by the touch of a hand on 
his shoulder. Rousing himself, he inquired angrily 
who had disturbed him. 

It is I, Sadak, the Arab, who saved you from 
the sea. Speak softly lest they hear us,” the Arab 
replied. He used the bastard Arabic spoken by 
those who travelled in the Levant, a language which 
Temple could speak with a fluency that was un- 
fettered by regard for grammatical niceties. “ If 
you wish it, I can enable you to reach your own 
country again. Come with me out of earshot of 
the others, and I will tell you.” 

I know not where we are,” the Arab continued, 
when Temple had followed him a bowshot out of 
camp, except that we are far from any settlement 
of these accursed Portuguese, but I know these 
people and can speak their tongue, for I made many 
voyages to this coast in the service of merchants 
of my own race before I fell into the hands of the 
foreigners. Some distance to the north, I know not 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 115 

how far, my countrymen have markets where they 
trade with the infidels. Let us escape and go north, 
therefore, and in time we shall fall in with Arab 
traders. They will give us passage back to the Sea 
of Edom,"^ or perhaps to Bassorah, from where 
we may go, you to your country and I to mine. 
You and I travelling together may go swiftly and 
find food on the journey, but if we stay with our 
masters we shall perish miserably, for how can a 
large body of men, hampered by women and that 
fat captain, hope to travel through this country?’’ 

If you know the tongue of these heathen, why 
did you not speak with them when they brought us 
food ? ” 

Lest the Senhor Lieutenant, knowing my value, 
should bind me ere I escaped,” replied the Arab. 

How shall we find food among them ? ” 

“We shall take copper and iron from the wreck- 
age that has been washed ashore, and buy food as we 
need it. These people have no metal of their own, 
and I have seen an ox sold among them for a piece 
of copper the size of my hand.” 

“ Why do you give me the chance of coming 
with you?” inquired Temple, a sudden suspicion 
flashing across his mind. 

“ Because I love you. Did I not save you from 
the sea ? ” 

“ And by so doing earned the hate of the water 
spirits. Now give me a true answer.” 

“ It is a long way to where my countrymen trade, 
* 7.^, the Red Sea. 


ii6 JOHN TEMPLE 

and a man should have a companion on the road/* 
replied Sadak. Whom should I choose but the 
only man who can speak my language, now that all 
the slaves of my own race are drowned ? ** 

“That is more reasonable. Wait one day more 
till we have rested and know what the others will do. 
Then I will talk with you again. Now let me sleep 
again.** 

Temple did not go to sleep, however. He lay 
down and considered the Arab*s suggestion in all its 
bearings. The treatment which he had received from 
the Portuguese had not tended to make him feel in 
any way inclined to sacrifice anything for their sakes. 
He saw, quite clearly, that circumstances had made 
himself and the Arab the two most valuable members 
of the party, for they afforded a channel by which 
the Portuguese could communicate with the natives, 
but this fact did not in the least affect his considera- 
tion of the Arab’s proposals. If he reached Sofala 
with the Portuguese he would be still a convict, 
whereas if he reached the Levant in the Arab’s 
company he would stand a fair chance of winning 
his way back to. England. There was, however, 
another side to the matter. Why did the Arab want 
to be hampered on a long and difficult journey with 
a companion ? Why, since all his countrymen con- 
sider it exceedingly unlucky to help a drowning man, 
had he saved his life ? Had his person any particular 
value in the Arab’s eyes ? Temple remembered 
that once or twice during the voyage he had been 
awakened at night by feeling stealthy hands fumbling 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 117 

in his clothes, and that Sadak had contrived to be 
near him from the moment the ship struck until she 
went to pieces. 

As soon as it was light Temple roused the lieu- 
tenant, and told him all that had passed between 
himself and the Arab. 

‘‘ Why did you not accept the man’s offer ? ” 
inquired Ramires, suspiciously. Many of the 
cavalleiros would be glad of the chance. You have 
no love for us.” 

‘‘ None whatever,” agreed Temple frankly, but 
I have for my life, and I thought that perhaps we 
should not go far before Sadak took me unawares 
and slit my throat.” 

Why should he ? Has he a grudge against 
you ? ” 

Swear that you will reveal what I say to no 

one. 

On my honour, senhor.” 

‘‘ Perhaps he thinks that I have got the famous 
jewel, the Nour Jehan. It was on account of a bazaar 
rumour to that effect that I was arrested at Ormuz.” 

“ And have you got it ? ” 

Temple laughed. “ If I have, it is of little use 
to me here.” 

Or to us either,” rejoined Ramires. Senhor 
Englishman, I promised to intercede for your life. 
If what you say be true, I shall have good reason to 
do so, for an interpreter is worth his weight in gold 
to us. Serve us faithfully, and I swear that I will 
intercede for your freedom when we join Francisco 


ii8 JOHN TEMPLE 

Barreto. Should we bind the Arab, do you think, 
or can we trust him not to escape ? ” 

He will not leave me, if what I believe is 
correct.” 

“ Good. Now we will see if he is really able to 
traffic with the natives. Take iron, as he suggested, 
go with him to one of the Kaffir villages — the nearest 
you can find — and try to buy food for us. I will 
send two cavalleiros with you, lest the Arab should 
try to kill you and rob you of your jewel.” 

Sadak was then called and told of the errand on 
which he was to go. He was promised that if he 
did his duty as an interpreter, he should receive his 
freedom and a hundred cruzados as soon as Sofala 
was reached, but that if he attempted treachery he 
should die by torture. Ramires even gave details, 
which cannot be mentioned here, of the particular 
means that would be used to kill him. 

The experiment was a complete success. Temple, 
accompanied by the Arab and two cavalleiros, took 
half a dozen nails and a square foot of copper, and 
returned within two hours carrying two or three 
cooking-pots and driving two sheep and a fat and 
docile ox, on whose back — for it had been trained to 
carry a load — they had laid a heavy goat-skin bag 
of millet-meal cakes. 

When they returned to the beach, they found 
the captain, the lieutenant, and the other cavalleiros 
gathered in council. To this council Temple, by 
reason of his obvious use to the party, was invited. 
They had been discussing the possibility of making 


TEMPLE AND THE CAVALLEIROS 119 

a boat out of the wreckage, but this project was 
abandoned when it was realized that the carpenters 
had both been drowned. A suggestion that a dozen 
of the most active men should leave the rest in a 
standing camp till a ship could be sent for them, 
after being discussed for awhile fell to the ground 
because both those who were ready to go and those 
who were prepared to stay insisted that Temple and 
the Arab should be of their party. Eventually it 
was decided that they had no choice but to march 
all together overland, carrying iron and copper with 
which to buy food on the way, in the hope of 
eventually reaching the Portuguese settlements. 

During the discussion the captain had sat silent, 
his head in his hands, staring stupidly from one 
speaker to another. Vice and laziness, added to his 
natural stupidity, had long since robbed him of any 
power to command save that which he derived from 
his influence in high places. Now hardship and 
terror had combined to bring him to the verge of 
imbecility. His one contribution to the council’s 
deliberations was an insane command that the pilot, 
on whom almost as much as on Temple and the 
Arab the safety of the party now depended, should 
be hanged forthwith for failing to bring the ship to 
Mozambique — a command that was tacitly ignored 
by all his subordinates. When the council broke 
up, he took the lieutenant aside and made an attempt 
to regain the authority which he felt was fast slipping 
from his hands. 

Senhor Ramires,” he said in a trembling voice. 


120 JOHN TEMPLE 

“ you must not forget, in making your plans, that 
my safety is of the greatest importance. You 
are older than I, more experienced ; you are — 
That is why I left the command in your hands when 

the mutiny — and the storm You are so capable. 

Besides, I was not at all well, not at all well.” 

He paused, staring vacantly at the lieutenant and 
clutching at his sleeve. 

We must push on. Push on fast. I must 
have men to carry me. I cannot walk, and I never 

was strong. You are so strong . We had better 

leave the women, they could not keep up on the 

march . I do not speak for myself, but the king, 

my cousin, needs my advice. He could not afford 
to lose me. I will ask him to promote you. You 
deserve it — I will make you rich. See, I have 

jewels, all my savings .” He thrust a trembling 

hand into his doublet and pulled out a handful of 
the precious stones which represented the result of 
three years* extortion and fraud. See ; I can 
reward you ” 

The lieutenant cut him short abruptly. 

“ I will have as much care for you as the others, 
Dom Balthazar,** he replied curtly, and turning on 
his heel went to superintend the issue of rations to 
the men. 


CHAPTER VII 


IN WHICH THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 

Rest and returning strength and the glimmer of 
hope, feeble though it was, that they might yet win 
their way to a Portuguese settlement, gave heart to 
the shipwrecked men, and they went to work with 
a will. Careful examination was made of -every 
piece of wreckage that had been cast ashore, and 
if any copper sheeting adhered to it this was stripped 
off and rolled into bundles of a shape convenient 
for those who were to carry it. The timber was 
then stacked in heaps and burned as the quickest 
means of getting at the nails embedded in it. By 
nightfall of the third day as much metal had been 
gathered as the party could carry, enough at the 
price then current to keep them all in provisions 
for several months. When this was done, the more 
energetic of the cavalleiros were anxious to begin 
immediately the overland journey ; but Ramires, 
pointing out that Kaffirs would not exchange good 
food for metal which they could get for nothing, 
ordered that such metal as still clung to the wreck- 
age should be destroyed. For two days more, there- 
fore, the men, grumbling heartily, laboured to collect 
the precious stuff. 

I2I 


122 JOHN TEMPLE 

At this point of the Natal coast a lofty promontory 
of rock is split into a deep and narrow chasm, in 
which the great waves that roll in from the southern 
ocean surge so fiercely that even on the calmest day 
no swimmer could keep himself afloat therein for 
more than a few agonizing seconds. Two centuries 
later Chaka, the bloody Zulu despot, used to hurl 
men into this same chasm and amuse himself with 
the sight of their desperate, fruitless efforts to reach 
the stiller water of the open sea. Into this natural 
cauldron the surplus metal from the Sao RaphaeVs 
timbers was thrown, lest any astute financier among 
Dabulamanzi's people, by obtaining possession of 
it, should send down the price of what to the 
shipwrecked men was infinitely more valuable than 
coined gold. 

Temple, meanwhile, accompanied by the Arab 
and protected by a guard of men under a cavalleiro, 
had made several journeys into the neighbouring 
country, and with a few pounds of nails had pur- 
chased not only provision enough for several days, 
but also five fat and docile oxen, each one trained 
to carry a load. More oxen he would have bought 
if he could, but though he bought the five with very 
little trouble, when he tried to buy a sixth the market 
rate suddenly doubled. A dozen nails and three 
pounds of copper was little enough to pay for one 
ox, but Temple and the officer who accompanied 
him agreed that to yield to the increased demand 
would be foolish, since it might encourage those who 
had provisions to sell to make their prices ruinous. 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 123 

On the morning of the sixth day a start was 
made. At the head of the column marched the 
pilot, compass in hand, Father Sebastian, holding 
his crucifix aloft. Black Jorge the gunner, and a 
seaman, the two latter carrying the arquebuses which 
had been sent ashore. These were followed by the 
captain, Dom Balthazar d’Elvas, and the women 
and the boy, on either side of whom, as a guard, 
marched the twenty-six cavalleiros, eight of whom, 
the eight who had come ashore in the boats, had 
their swords. At a short distance behind came the 
cattle, each carrying a load of copper, in charge of 
the seamen and slaves, and the rear was brought 
up by the rest of the convicts, armed with sticks, 
under the command of the lieutenant, Henrique 
Ramires. Temple and the Arab the lieutenant 
kept by his side, not only to interpret in case of 
need, but in order that as he marched he might 
learn as much as the Arab could teach of the country 
that lay ahead. In preparation for the march Dona 
Beatriz and Senhora Ribeiro had with some difficulty 
been persuaded to abandon their own clothes and 
don garments, more suitable for rough work, that 
had been stripped from the dead bodies of two 
cavalleiros, and Temple had taken the opportunity 
to exchange his Arab robe for the leather jacket 
and breeches of a drowned seaman. With the 
exception of the women, the captain, and the priest 
(who had enough to do to carry his heavy crucifix), 
each person carried a load of metal and provisions. 

Soon after sunrise the column began to move 


124 JOHN TEMPLE 

forward, but not until Father Sebastian had called 
the men together, and in a few eloquent words 
bade them put tjieir trust in Him who alone 
had power to carry them through their desperate 
enterprise. All kneeled while he uttered a prayer, 
after which, as the march began, those who had 
sufficient religious training joined with the friar 
in singing the Te Deum, A seven-hundred-mile 
march overland was a perilous undertaking enough, 
but few such hazardous enterprises could have been 
begun under more favourable circumstances. Every 
omen was favourable. The sun was bright. The 
air was fresh and cool. The line of the shore 
wended almost due north-east, the direction in 
which Sofala lay, so that it was possible to keep 
a course by marching on firm ground parallel with 
the beach. The party had as much good food as 
it needed at the moment, and Dabulamanzi's people, 
who could have annihilated them with very little 
trouble, so far from molesting them, had assembled 
in scores to set them on their way. The first of 
a series of disasters, however, was soon to fall, and 
for this the shipwrecked men had to blame, not 
unkind Fate, but their own selfishness and lack 
of public spirit. 

It was the captain who set the bad example that 
demoralized the company. This great lump of 
pampered flesh and evil passions found the task 
of marching on foot under an African sun more 
arduous work than he had ever undertaken in his 
whole indolent life. Three times before the sun 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 125 

had reached its zenith he called a halt and kept 
the whole company loitering in idleness while he 
regained his breath and his energies. When the 
company halted for the midday meal he selected 
ten of the sturdiest convicts and told them to make 
a litter in which to carry him. To his intense 
indignation, his order was met with a sullenly 
muttered refusal. Common hardship and common 
danger had already so weakened artificial grades of 
rank and authority among the shipwrecked men that 
respect and obedience could hardly be obtained by 
any one unable to enforce it by the strength of his 
own unaided personality. The Dom stared, gaped, 
became bloated with rage, and bellowed an order to 
the cavalleiros to take the rebellious convicts and 
hang them forthwith. Not a man moved. Then 
the captain, changing his tone, attempted to plead 
with them, referring in harrowing tones to his 
physical weakness and the importance of his rank. 
Even these considerations failed to move his sub- 
ordinates. Then he began to bargain, offering a 
full pardon and first one thousand, then five thou- 
sand, and then twenty thousand cruzados to any ten 
men who should carry him to Sofala. The last offer 
was accepted by some of the convicts, who only dimly 
realized the magnitude of the task before them, but 
after that incident Dom Balthazar lost the last shreds 
of his waning authority. Henceforth his position in 
the company was peculiar. He received no service 
unless he paid for it. He gave no orders and 
received none. At the council meetings of the 


126 JOHN TEMPLE 

cavalleiros neither his commands nor his advice 
were invited. 

With the example of their captain to excuse 
them, the cavalleiros were not slow to find a means 
of lightening their labour. A score of Dabula- 
manzi's people were still accompanying the column 
after the midday halt, and these were now invited 
by signs to help to carry loads. Now, the average 
unsophisticated African native is a cheery, good- 
hearted individual when he is in a good temper, 
glad to do any little kindness that does not involve 
much personal trouble, and very soon each of the 
natives was carrying a load as gladly as a boy on 
Yarmouth sands will lend a hand to beach asmacks- 
man's craft. There were, however, more loads to 
carry than natives to carry them, and those who had 
not had the luck to get their loads carried for nothing 
eagerly hired assistance by offering nails or copper 
out of the supply of metal which each man carried. 
Very naturally, Dabulamanzi’s men threw down the 
loads they had been willing to carry for nothing, and 
shouldered those of men who offered to pay them. 
Men began to outbid each other in their desire to 
lighten their burdens, and not a few quarrels arose 
between men who vied with each other in their 
efforts to hire assistance. At first it was only the 
cavalleiros who thus rid themselves of their loads, 
but before long the seamen and the convicts began 
to follow the example of their officers. Each man 
who carried a load had his share of the common 
stock of metal, and each man, therefore, was as 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 127 

wealthy as his neighbour. Barriers of rank were 
broken down. The convicts and the seamen bid 
against the cavalleiros, and those most successful 
in hiring assistance were those who were most reck- 
less with the metal that had been entrusted to them. 
When the column halted for the night and the 
natives were preparing to return to their villages, 
some men were even so mad as to press nails and 
pieces of copper sheeting upon them in the hope 
that they would regard it as payment in advance, 
and consider themselves engaged to the giver for 
the next day’s march. 

The immediate result of this mad competition 
for their services was that Dabulamanzi’s people 
very justly began to regard the strange white men 
as fools. Next morning few of those who had been 
paid in advance returned to the Portuguese camp, 
but over a hundred others came in the hopes of 
getting a share of the wealth that had been dis- 
tributed so lavishly on the previous day. These 
had now an exaggerated idea of their own value, 
and the price of labour had consequently risen 
enormously. Men who had begun by carrying loads 
out of sheer good nature now refused their help 
until they had been given an amount of metal that 
in the first instance had sufficed to purchase an ox. 

Even the most reckless of the convicts realized 
what folly it would be to yield to the increased 
demand. Reasonable offers being refused, the Portu- 
guese began to threaten, and very soon black men 
and white were engaged in heated arguments that 


128 JOHN TEMPLE 

were complicated by the fact that no man of either 
party understood a word of what was said to him. 
In the middle of the turmoil, a cry arose that the 
compass had been stolen. Some savage, with the 
instincts of a jackdaw, seeing what looked like an 
amusing toy lying unguarded on the ground had 
abstracted it. The sense of this appalling loss sobered 
the Portuguese. Gradually the noise subsided, and 
at length Ramires, speaking through Temple and 
the Arab, was able to formulate a demand that the 
compass should be restored. 

A scene ensued that would have been highly 
humorous on a comic-opera stage, but which failed 
to amuse those whose lives depended on the recovery 
of the instrument. When the natives had been made 
to understand what the Portuguese had lost — the 
compass had to be minutely described several times 
over — each man loudly expressed abhorrence of the 
theft, and indignation at the thought that one of 
their number should be guilty of it. Had it occurred 
among their neighbours the Abazimu, they declared, 
they could have understood it, but crime amongst 
Dabulamanzi’s people was unknown. Surely the 
mermen must be mistaken, they insisted, and would 
find the glittering box with the moving needle if 
they searched amongst their loads. 

Seeing that these protests seemed likely to be 
prolonged indefinitely, the lieutenant issued an order 
that at first excited hilarious wonder among the 
natives. At his command the Portuguese formed 
themselves into a military square, with the baggage. 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 129 

the women, the cattle, the Hindoos, and the captain, 
who took up this strategic position on his own 
initiative, inside. Six of the most active cavalleiros 
then darted forward, seized three of the natives and 
dragged them inside the square. The manoeuvre 
was a daring one, for the natives could easily have 
raised a force that would have annihilated the almost 
unarmed Portuguese by sheer force of numbers, 
but its suddenness commanded success. The other 
natives, taken unawares, first bolted to a distance, 
and then gathered together into a group to discuss 
the unexpected situation. Had they not all talked 
at once they might have been able to agree on 
united aggressive action, but, fortunately for the 
Portuguese, they were unaccustomed to assume 
hostilities without first having their spirits heated 
to fighting pitch by war songs and the incantations 
of their chief Some declared for an immediate 
rescue of their comrades. Others were timid or 
more wary, not knowing what strange magical powers 
the strangers might have. At length, after a pro- 
longed talk, throughout which the Portuguese waited 
in grim and patient silence, the elders decided that 
the safest course would be to yield to Ramires' 
demand, and restore the toy which the incompre- 
hensible mermen seemed to value so much more 
than they valued really valuable metal. 

The compass was handed back, and the natives, 
seeing that the Portuguese were not such fools as 
they had thought, cheerfully shouldered the loads 
without further haggling, for the African is in some 


130 JOHN TEMPLE 

respects a very reasonable being, and seldom harbours 
resentment for punishment that he has deserved. 
The Portuguese, however, were not prepared so 
easily to forget what had occurred, and now regarded 
their allies with distrust. Hitherto in their progress 
along the shore their route had lain over level sand, 
packed firm above high-water mark with short, 
closely matted grass, to march over which was no 
more difficult than to march over a parade-ground. 
Presently, however, they came to a part of the shore 
where tangled jungle ran down to a beach that was 
encumbered with heavy sand, broken at frequent 
intervals by piers of jagged rock. At this point a 
well-worn path left the shore and wound inland over 
gently undulating country that offered little obstacle 
to the onward march. The natives who were march- 
ing ahead struck inland at this point, as a matter 
of course, but the Portuguese, fearing a trick and 
wishing to have the sea at their backs in case of 
attack, called them back and forced them to march 
laboriously along the uneven beach* 

Now Dabulamanzi’s people, like most of their 
race, were not over fond of work, and had the 
strongest possible objection to work that was more 
arduous than it need have been. Very soon they 
became sullen and ill-humoured. By way of im- 
proving matters the Portuguese began to drive them 
forward with blows. From the scene of the ship- 
wreck to the place from which the path left the shore 
and wound inland the column had averaged a pace 
of nearly a league an hour. From that point onward. 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 131 

though they toiled incessantly, they advanced scarcely 
half a league between noon and sunset. When camp 
was formed for the night every one was worn out 
and ill-tempered. Friction arose between the caval- 
leiros and the convicts, the former wishing to take 
their ease and the latter protesting that each man 
should do his share of the work in the labour of 
fetching water and fuel. Next morning no natives 
came back to the camp, so the Portuguese had to 
shoulder their loads themselves, and struggle along 
as best they could. When they tried marching 
through the jungle, tangled roots tripped them up 
and thorny vines tore skin and clothing. On the 
shore they sank over their ankles, and the sand, 
driven before a fierce, scorching north wind, filled 
their eyes and inflamed their skin. 

At the noon-day halt it was discovered that pro- 
visions were running short. Temple and the Arab, 
therefore, accompanied by a guard of twelve men 
under Senhor de Brito, the cavalleiro who had accom- 
panied him on his previous foraging expeditions, 
struck inland in search of a village. They discovered 
that the jungle through which they had toiled so 
painfully, although it fringed the beach for mile 
upon mile, was a narrow belt scarcely more than half 
a mile wide, and that beyond it lay grassy open plains 
between low hills, the summits of many of which 
were crowned with a cluster of huts. To the nearest 
group of huts they made their way, and with easy 
confidence born of previous experience demanded 
provisions. 


132 JOHN TEMPLE 

The village consisted of a dozen huts and two 
or three beehive-shaped granaries built around a 
cattle kraal. At the entrance to the kraal were 
squatting some men who on the previous day had 
carried loads for the Portuguese ; while two smiths, 
working with a primitive goatskin-bellows and a 
heavy stone hammer, were busily converting the iron 
nails they had earned into knives and spear-heads. 

Temple, who had already learned a few essential 
words, gave the customary greeting. 

‘‘We see you,** he began. “We have come to 
barter.** 

His salutation was received in sullen silence. 
After an awkward pause, he said again — 

“We have come to buy food.** 

“ There is no food here,** answered one of the 
smiths at last. “We are hungry in this village.** 
“Is there food at that village.?** asked Temple, 
through Sadak the Arab interpreter, pointing to a 
group of huts on the next hill-top. 

The question was discussed with every appear- 
ance of earnestness by the knot of idlers, but at 
length the elder of the two smiths, holding a red- 
hot nail on the flat rock while his assistant hammered 
it, replied — 

“They are hungry there also. They have no food.** 
“ Show them the metal,** said Senhor de Brito. 
“ Say we will give either iron or copper.** 

The men looked with careless indifference at the 
metal which the Arab offered. Each of them had 
got more than he wanted at the moment and desired 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 133 

no more. Metal had in fact become a drug in the 
market. They tossed it back indifferently, saying, 
‘^We have no food.” 

‘‘What will they take? In God's name!” 
exclaimed Senhor de Brito. “ Here, men, empty 
your wallets. Perhaps some one of us has some- 
thing that will take their fancy.” 

The value of the articles thus offered was not 
great. A thimble, a rosary, one or two amulets 
such as were worn by some Europeans in the six- 
teenth century, as they are worn to-day, to avert the 
evil eye, and a crude, badly-soiled picture of the 
owner's patron saint, were all the vendible trinkets 
that could be found amongst the whole company. 
These failed even to arouse the curiosity of the 
natives. At last a basket containing enough grain 
to give a meal to a dozen men was offered in ex- 
change for the Arab's cotton robe, which, by the way, 
Senhor de Brito had offered for sale without consult- 
ing its owner. 

“That is not enough. Tell them, if they won't 
sell, we will take what we want for nothing,” ex- 
claimed the cavalleiro. “ Draw your knives, men.” 

The threat was either misunderstood or regarded 
as vain, but was carried into effect with a suddenness 
that completely surprised the natives. Scarcely a 
blow was struck before they bolted helter-skelter 
down the hill, leaving the Portuguese to ransack the 
granaries at their leisure. 

That night, every member of the shipwrecked 
company had enough and to spare. It was the last 


134 JOHN TEMPLE 

full meal they were to eat for a long time. Next 
day, after a consultation among the officers, it was 
decided to leave the beach and to march further 
inland along the path that Senhor de Brito’s party 
had discovered. It was intended to repeat the 
tactics that had proved so successful and to take by 
force food which the natives would not sell, but 
though they saw signs of human habitation all around 
them, not a single man nor an ounce of food was to 
be found. Village after village was entered. In each 
the huts were deserted, the granaries stood empty. 
Fresh hoof-prints were found in the mud of the 
cattle kraals, but not an ox was to be seen. Yet, 
though not a single native showed himself, the Portu- 
guese knew that their every movement was watched. 
From each hill-top they heard the voices of unseen 
men calling to each other, and Sadak reported that 
the men they passed were signalling their progress 
to the watchers who waited beyond. 

Throughout the day they marched, zigzagging 
from one empty village to another. At midday they 
halted to eat the last of the stolen food, and the voices 
on the hill-tops became silent, but a cry rang out 
and passed from mouth to mouth as soon as the 
march was resumed. Soon it seemed that the 
unseen watchers were nearer, and that there were 
more of them. Some of those who shouted were 
far ahead, others seemed to be scarcely a bowshot 
behind. Presently they came to a river, that which 
is now known as the Umkomanzi, and at once the 
surrounding country seemed alive with men. The 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 135 

river was broad and deep, and it became necessary 
to halt until a ford could be found. A square was 
formed around the women and the captain, while 
volunteers floundered about neck-deep in the water 
seeking for shallows. All the while the voices came 
nearer and nearer. At last a spear flung by an unseen 
hand whirred through the thicket, and wounded a 
slave in the thigh. 

“ Let us advance to meet them, Senhor Ramires,” 
said one of the cavalleiros at last. “ Teach these 
curs that it is dangerous to yap at the heels of 
Portuguese conquistadores ! ” 

“And break up our formation! No, senhor,” 
replied the lieutenant. “We are all too few. We 
will frighten them, though. Are your matches alight, 
gunners ? ” 

“ Ready, senhor,” replied Black Jorge the gunner 
and the seamen who had been entrusted with the 
second arquebus. 

“ Then fire a shot.” 

The sixteenth-century arquebus was a cumbrous 
affair. For fighting anywhere except in open coun- 
try it was as useless as an old-type elephant gun 
would be for snipe-shooting. It took several min- 
utes to load and some time to fire even when 
loaded. The smouldering match of twisted rag that 
was carried, when not in actual use, between the 
fingers of the arquebusier’s left hand had to be 
puffed into a glow, then fitted into the groove of 
the hammer and blown again. The lock of the 
arquebus was then opened, a final puff given to 


136 JOHN TEMPLE 

the match, the trigger pulled, and, if nothing went 
wrong, the charge exploded carrying death and de- 
struction to any living thing in a direct line with, 
and within twenty yards of, the muzzle. It was 
so heavy as to require balancing on a fork, and 
could be used with little effect at any object that 
was not absolutely stationary. Black Jorge and 
his colleague therefore fired at random, but the 
shot had the desired effect of terrifying savages 
who had never heard of gunpowder. After one 
shrill yell of terror, the shouting in the thicket 
ceased. No more spears were thrown, and the Portu- 
guese took comfort in the belief that their assailants 
had fled. Five times those who were seeking a ford 
staggered panting to the shore, and each time the 
whole column moved in a compact body further up 
the river. At last a path was found leading straight 
down into the water, and those who advanced into it 
at this point reported that though the current was 
strong and the passage obstructed with boulders it 
was possible to cross. 

A party of twenty men crossed to hold the further 
side of the ford. Then the women, the child, and 
the captain were carried painfully across. Next the 
slaves were ordered to drive the cattle through the 
river, but now an unexpected difficulty arose. The 
oxen were docile and exceedingly well-trained. On 
the first day’s march, when the natives were still 
friendly, those who had sold them had shown that 
they would lie down, get up, go forward and turn to 
the right or to the left at the word of command 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 137 

without any one at their heads. The Portuguese and 
the Hindoo slaves, however, had not the knack of 
handling cattle after the African fashion, and now 
they discovered that a tremendous lot of beating is 
required to make an ox go where he does not wish. 
The oxen would advance knee-deep into the river, 
snort, bellow, and then turn and plunge up the bank 
again, knocking down any one that happened to stand 
in their way. The Hindoos, helped by a dozen 
Portuguese, tried to drag them by the horns one by 
one through the water, but when they got into the 
strongest part of the current were obliged to let go, 
in order to keep their own footing. They tried to 
push them through the water and only got knocked 
down for their pains. At last, after half an hour's 
hard work, punctuated by much blasphemy, a shrill 
whistle was heard from the depths of the thicket. 
The oxen, hearing at last a command they understood, 
flung up their heads and listened. The whistle was 
repeated. With loud bellows they charged with 
lowered horns headlong up the bank, scattering sea- 
man and slave, convict and cavalleiro to right and 
left, and before any one realized what had happened 
they were out of sight in the thicket, the sound they 
made as they crashed through the undergrowth 
becoming fainter and fainter till it died away 
altogether. 

The Portuguese language is rich in phrases that 
express rage and disgust, but it was all too poor for 
the needs of the moment. Not a man spoke. The 
calamity that had befallen them was too great for 


138 JOHN TEMPLE 

words. In a moment they had lost beasts that alive 
could carry as much as could twenty men, or dead 
would have fed the whole company for three weeks. 
The metal packed on their backs would have sufhced, 
properly used, to have purchased food enough for a 
month. Worst of all, this metal, distributed as it 
soon would be far over the country-side, would make 
that commodity, hitherto priceless in the natives' 
eyes, so cheap that it would be practically impossi- 
ble for the Portuguese to buy provisions until they 
reached a district far from Dabulamanzi’s clan. 

Senhor de Brito, we must get those oxen and 
their loads back at all costs," said the lieutenant, as 
these thoughts flashed through his mind. Take 
twenty men and don't come back till you have 
recovered them. We will camp on the far side of 
the river till you return." 

The cavalleiro saluted, selected twenty of the 
most active of the convicts and marched, while 
the rest of the Portuguese hurriedly crossed the 
river. A camp was formed. A guard was set. 
What little food remained was divided and eaten, 
and the weary company, worn out with marching 
and hunger, waited with ever-growing anxiety for 
the return of their companions. Night fell and still 
there was no sign of de Brito and his men. Five 
times during the night Ramires rose and peered into 
the gloom, listening intently. At last he fell asleep. 
At the first gleam of dawn a sentry roused him. 

‘‘ They have returned, senhor. I can see them 
on the farther side." 


THE OVERLAND MARCH IS BEGUN 139 

The lieutenant rose and looked. On the 
opposite bank stood an indistinct group of figures, 
shouting and waving their arms. 

‘‘ What are they shouting for ^ Why don’t they 
cross ? ” said a cavalleiro who also had risen. 

Perhaps they cannot see the ford. Shout to 
them to wait till it is lighter,” answered Ramires. 

“ Senhor, there are more than twenty men there,” 
said the sentry. 

“ But that must be Senhor de Brito. I can see 
the flash of light on his sword. In Heaven’s name, 
shout and ask what it is they want.” 

The sentry shouted and was answered with a wild 
yell. As the light grew stronger they could see that 
the weapon that had gleamed was indeed De Brito’s 
sword, but it was brandished with a gesture of 
defiance, and the man who brandished it was a 
brawny savage. 

An expression of pain and misery came over the 
old lieutenant’s face. For a moment it lingered, 
and then his voice rang out as firm and clear as when 
many years before he had rallied his men at the siege 
of Diu. 

“Strike camp and march for the beach. We 
have lost the pick of our men, and we must have the 
sea at our backs in case of attack.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


IN WHICH GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 

An hour’s march brought the column to the beach, 
where, being comparatively safe from attack, the 
men scattered in search of anything that might prove 
to be eatable, after sentries had been posted to guard 
against surprise. Some ransacked the thicket that 
stretched down to high-water mark for wild fruits 
and roots, and learned far more quickly than any 
botanist of that day could have taught them which 
were merely insipid, which were astringent and nasty 
but eatable, and which were actively poisonous. 
Others searched the rocks, and, the tide being low, 
were fortunate enough to find a scanty supply of 
mussels and oysters. Each man foraged for him- 
self and ate anything he found as soon as he had 
found it. Senhora Ribeiro joined her husband in 
the search for food, the two sharing with their little 
boy anything they found. Dona Beatriz, too, had 
to forage for herself, a circumstance that aroused a 
certain amount of comment among the cavalleiros, 
since all had supposed that Dom Vicente would look 
after his prospective wife. Some of those who were 
fortunate in their search for shellfish, either from 
140 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 141 

natural courtesy or because they thought it well to 
win the favour of a lady who had been promised a 
wealth-producing office at Sena, occasionally offered 
her a handful of mussels or oysters, but most of 
them found it difficult to find enough for their own 
needs, and Dona Beatriz would have remained hungry 
if she had not joined in the general search. 

Hitherto Captain Dom Balthazar had received 
an ample share of food whenever rations had been 
distributed. For awhile after reaching the shore he 
waited patiently in the shade of a thicket, expecting 
that food would be brought to him. Presently he 
realized that if he were to have any breakfast 
he must find it for himself. With a heavy groan he 
rose, made his way to the rocks and began to search, 
getting little beyond bruises for his pains, for he 
instinctively chose to hunt amongst the rocks that 
were most easily climbed and these had been examined 
before by more active men. At last he came upon 
a seaman standing shoulder deep in a pool and 
groping with his fingers in a crevice ; as he approached 
the man jerked a large crayfish from its hiding-place 
and climbing out of the pool, killed, dismembered, 
and began to eat his find. 

Tortured with hunger the captain attempted to 
assert the authority that he had lost. 

‘‘ Give me that fish,” he commanded. 

‘‘ I don’t beat a bush for other men to catch 
birds,” the man replied insolently. 

“ Sell, then,” pleaded the captain desperately, 
fumbling in his wallet and producing the least 


142 JOHN TEMPLE 

valuable of his jewels, a tiny gold cross studded 
with small rubies. 

The exchange was made. Dom Balthazar sat 
down to enjoy raw crayfish, and the man resumed 
his search. Presently, having satisfied his own 
hunger, for he had been an experienced fisherman 
in Portugal before he had been exiled to India, it 
occurred to the seaman that others might be willing 
to buy. Most of the cavalleiros had saved a few 
jewels and gold coins from the wreck, and soon 
the convict was driving a trade that, had he been in 
Portugal, would soon have made him independent 
for life. Others followed his example and a brisk 
trade sprang up, those who had not been fortunate 
in their search for food eagerly buying it at the rate 
of a gold piece or a jewelled trinket for a scanty meal. 

When all had satisfied their hunger in a more 
or less unsatisfactory manner the order was given 
to march, but now, instead of marching in solid 
formation, the company scattered widely over the 
shore and in the thicket, in order that even while 
marching the men might lose no opportunity of 
finding food. Scouts were ordered to keep a look- 
out on the landward side of the column, but these 
performed their duty in a perfunctory manner, each 
one being more concerned about his own appetite 
than about the safety of the party. Fortunately the 
natives did not molest them. If any man chanced 
to emerge on the landward side of the belt of jungle 
that fringed the shore, his appearance was promptly 
hailed by a native scout from the nearest hill-top. 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 143 

but this was the only sign they had that their 
movements were still being watched. 

For the next six days the wretched company 
moved forward like a swarm of very hungry and 
very inexperienced locusts. As locusts alight on a 
blade of corn, eat while their fellows pass them and 
then fly on, so every man in turn hurried forward 
till he was well ahead of the main body, then flung 
down his load and foraged for food while his fellows 
passed him, until when far in the rear his fear of 
being cut off from his companions overcoming his 
appetite, he picked up his load again and hurried 
forward to repeat the process farther on. 

The men told off to march on the west or land- 
ward side of the column in case of an attack by the 
natives, were relieved every two hours in order that 
they might have time to forage, but so great was the 
need constantly to search for food that the duty was 
very carelessly carried out. The safety of the whole 
was subordinated to the pressing needs of each in- 
dividual. Discipline became slacker and slacker till 
Henrique Ramires, by an act of grim justice, re- 
stored it again. On the second evening after the 
loss of de Brito and his company, when it became 
too dark to hunt for food, the order was given to 
form camp for the night. As the men assembled, it 
was seen that one man was without the load that had 
been entrusted to him. When questioned he de- 
clared sullenly that, as the metal seemed useless 
since they could no longer obtain provisions with it, 
he had abandoned it. 


144 JOHN TEMPLE 

May God pardon you,” said the lieutenant 
solemnly. ‘‘ It is not old iron but men’s lives that 
you have thrown away. It is true that the metal is 
useless now, but in a few days we shall have passed 
out of the country of our enemies and, God willing, 
be able to use it again. Think you that we can 
reach Sofala with no better food than we have had 
this last two days ? Go to Father Sebastian and 
make your peace with God, for you die to-night.” 

The man was hanged in the grey dawn, and the 
wretched company prepared to march. When the 
others moved forward one man, the Hindoo slave 
who had been wounded at the crossing of the Um- 
komanzi River remained seated by his load. When 
ordered to march he replied that his wound was sore 
and that death was better than misery. He was 
jerked roughly to his feet and his load hoisted on to 
his shoulder, but he flung it down again, and grovel- 
ling at Ramires’ feet pleaded to be hanged or to be 
left alone to die. 

‘‘ The man speaks the truth. He cannot march,” 
said the lieutenant compassionately ; then calling up 
four of the seamen he directed them to carry the 
wounded man through the thicket and set him down 
somewhere within sight of a native village. Put a 
few nails by his side,” he said. “ At the worst the 
natives can but kill him, and that will be better than 
to die of hunger, and it may be that they will show 
kindness to one of their own colour.” 

During the heat of the next day the lieutenant, 
who had had the luck to find a large cluster of 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 145 

mussels, was sitting down to enjoy them when he 
heard a cry from the rear, and looking back saw 
Senhor Ribeiro hurrying forward through the heavy 
sand. 

“ Elelp, senhors, help, for the love of the 
saints,” he cried. ‘‘ My wife is ill.” 

Henrique Ramires and a few others went back 
and found Senhora Ribeiro, far behind the rest of the 
company, lying full length on a rock and breathing 
hard. Misery and toil and insufficient food had 
worn her out. Soon after the column had taken 
to the shore she and her husband had found that 
their boy could not without help keep up with the 
column. The mother therefore had carried him for 
a good part of each march, while the father, having 
three mouths to provide for, had devoted himself 
entirely to the desperate search for food. The few 
valuables that they had saved from the wreck had 
already been surrendered in exchange for food. 
Their last trinket had been given the night before 
for a handful of astringent wild fruit, all of which 
had been given to the boy, and on this day Senhora 
Ribeiro had eaten nothing. She made a pitiable 
picture as she lay there. Her hands were torn and 
bleeding from clutching at barnacle-encrusted rocks, 
and an ugly bruise on her pale cheek marked a 
wound that she had got when, her arms encumbered 
with the boy’s weight, she had fallen face forwards 
against a boulder. 

They cut poles from the thicket and ropes of 
tough creeping vines, and made a rough litter on 


146 JOHN TEMPLE 

which they carried her forward to the main body. A 
halt was then called, and after a few men had helped 
Senhor Ribeiro to find enough food to give his wife 
a meal, a council meeting was held to discuss what 
should be done. 

“We cannot sacrifice the safety of all for the 
sake of a woman and a child,'' declared Captain Dom 
Balthazar. “If we suit our pace to hers, we shall 
all perish miserably before we get halfway to Sofala. 
Give Senhor Ribeiro his share of the metal, and leave 
them here." 

There was a grim silence. Heartless and selfish 
though the advice was there was dreadful truth in 
what the captain said, yet the courage and gallantry 
that had made the small Portuguese nation for a 
short time one of the great powers of the world was 
not dead. 

“Not while I have strength to lift my hand will 
I see a lady of Portugal abandoned," cried one 
cavalleiro, a young adventurer named Furtado, and 
a dozen others echoed assent. Before many weeks 
had passed the speaker and those who seconded 
him, rendered utterly brutish by starvation and 
ceaseless toil, were to prove false to his gallant 
words, but the latent nobility of their class was still 
alive, and there were few at that meeting who at the 
moment would not light-heartedly have died to save 
a lady from a miserable end. 

“If men can be hired to carry the captain, men 
can be hired to carry the senhora and her boy," 
continued the cavalleiro, “and I for one will pay 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 147 

my share.” He placed his cap as he spoke in the 
centre of the group, and drawing three rings from 
his fingers and an uncut jewel from his wallet, threw 
them into it. The jewels had not been reputably 
acquired. They had in fact been taken at the 
dagger’s point from a trembling Hindoo merchant 
in Goa, who had foolishly offered to sell them to 
the cavalleiro, but it is to be hoped that the record- 
ing angel now blotted out all record of that transac- 
tion. The lieutenant took a gold cross that hung 
on a slender chain round his neck and placed it in 
the cap. 

‘‘ That is all I have, senhors,” he said, and I 
promised my mother that I would never part with 
it, but if she is looking at me now from heaven she 
will absolve me from my vow.” 

Some contributed all they had. Some put a few 
jewels and coins into the cap and swore it was all 
they possessed. The captain was the last man to 
contribute. He did not offer to pay his share until 
the cap was thrust very pointedly under his nose. 
Then after much anxious fumbling amongst his 
clothes he produced and added to the rest a trinket 
of which the value was scarcely more than Henrique 
Ramires’ contribution. Jewels worth about three 
thousand cruzados were thus collected, and for this 
five convicts were found willing to carry Senhora 
Ribeiro and her child for one-half of each day’s 
march, if they would walk for the rest of the time, 
and if the cavalleiros would take it in turns to find 
three of their number to help in the work. 


148 JOHN TEMPLE 

On the next day they came to a part of the shore 
where for mile after mile the sandy beach was un- 
broken by rocks. It became possible to march faster, 
but very much more difficult to find food, for where 
there were no rocks there were no shellfish. All 
along the beach a line of stranded seaweed marked 
the point to which the previous tide had risen, and 
amongst this only was food to be found. Very poor 
food it was — starfishes and jellyfishes for the most 
part, but here and there a lucky hunter found a 
dead bream or a tiny crab — yet it was pounced upon 
and devoured more eagerly then any savoury dish 
that graces a king’s table. 

The next member of the company to show signs 
of failing was the grey-bearded lieutenant. John 
Temple, who had lagged behind the rest to cook a 
collection of marine garbage in hopes of making 
it more palatable, came up with him ploughing 
through the heavy sand, and noticed how painfully 
he laboured, how gaspingly he caught his breath, 
how the great drops of sweat rolled down his pallid 
face. 

‘‘ Let me carry your load awhile, senhor,” said 
the Englishman, lest you get left behind.” 

Many thanks for your kindness, senhor,” re- 
plied the lieutenant, “but I must set an example 
to the men by bearing my share of the common 
burden.” 

“ Zounds ! Have you not work enough to do 
in keeping this mongrel crew together ? Come. 
My back is broad enough for two.” 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 149 

With gentle force Temple took the lieutenant's 
load and hoisted it on to his own shoulders, and the 
two went on together. 

Have you eaten to-day ? " asked Temple 
presently. 

‘‘Not yet," answered the lieutenant. “I have 
had no luck in my search." 

“ Why then, you must not be too proud to dine 
with me. Forget for one moment that I am a con- 
vict, and remember that I am an English gentleman, 
and am here through no fault of my own." 

“ Have you food, then ? " inquired the lieutenant 
eagerly, for his pride was rapidly melting under the 
influence of Temple's tactful kindness. 

“ No food, but the means of buying it," answered 
Temple, displaying a handful of gold coins and 
trinkets. “ I am making my fortune faster at this 
fishmongery trade than ever I did as a jewel merchant 
in London. Rest here for a while, and I will go and 
bargain." 

Fortune favoured him. The main body of the 
company had halted and was grouped around a 
convict who, being in the lead, had had the luck to 
come upon the stranded body of a dead shark. The 
lucky finder was retailing this carrion at from fifteen 
to twenty cruzados for a slice two inches thick. 
Temple bought the head in exchange for a jewel 

* This incident is taken from an historical account of the march 
undertaken by the survivors of the wreck of the San Bento, which 
went ashore near Umtata. The historian remarks that “ the price of 
that fish would have bought a large farm in Portugal.** 


150 JOHN TEMPLE 

worth about 30 cruzados (about 15), and carried it 
back to the lieutenant. 

May God reward you, senhor/’ cried Ramires, 
gratefully, as he filled his mouth with the malodorous 
food, “ and may God forget me if I do not stand 
your friend if ever we reach Sofala. 

The ease with which lucky finders of food rapidly 
acquired what passes for wealth in highly organized 
communities, and the recklessness with which men 
bid against each other had curious results. Men 
who six months before had begged for food in Goa, 
having had their heads turned by the possession of 
far greater wealth than they had ever hoped to obtain, 
might be seen gratifying their vanity by hiring 
cavalleiros to carry their loads, fetch them water and 
even to perform more menial offices. Gold and 
jewels changed hands rapidly. A man who in the 
morning was carrying another's load might in the 
afternoon, by having the luck to find more garbage 
than he needed for his own appetite, be the possessor 
of sufficient wealth to enable him to hire a man to 
carry his own load. One result of the rapid inter- 
change of valuables was that the men who were 
carrying Dom Balthazar, and who consequently had 
little leisure in which to search for food, said that 
they would carry him no further, for they could earn 
more than he had promised them by engaging in 
what Temple had called the fishmongery trade.” 
The unhappy captain expostulated, pleaded, and 
finally doubled his offer, distributing among them 
meanwhile as an additional gratuity a number of 


GREED PREYS UPON MISERY 151 

jewels whose value could scarcely have been less 
than a thousand cruzados. 

Those who were helping the cavalleiros to carry 
Senhora Ribeiro also struck for higher pay, and this 
not being forthcoming set her down to walk. It 
was now, however, less difficult for her to keep up 
with the rest, not because she was stronger, but 
because the survivors of the shipwreck, even those 
whose wallets were heavy with gold, were hourly 
getting weaker. The loose sand through which 
they floundered filled their worn-out boots and 
chafed their skins. The sun beat down from a sky 
that was grey with heat haze. The foul food they 
ate created disorders that racked them with paroxysms 
of fearful pain. Few men could march ahead for 
more than a furlong at a time without resting. Yet 
they struggled on without any further loss to their 
number, for those whose hearts were strongest helped 
the weak. One of the survivors of the San Bento, 
wrecked years before at Umtata, recorded a parallel 
instance of heroism that may well be quoted. 

“ The difficulties of the way being so terrible 
that the strength of many being unable to endure 
them, they lay down between the rocks along the 
tracks we were following so weary and hopeless 
of ever extricating themselves that, calling on our 
Lord to forgive their sins, they did not cease from 
bidding farewell to those that passed them by. These 
seeing their friends lie thus, stayed and sat down 
beside them, forcibly urging them to continue on 
their way, saying that they would by no means leave 


152 


JOHN TEMPLE 

the spot without them, and adding many other things 
which clearly showed their excessive grief at seeing 
them brought to such a pass, by which those who 
lay upon the ground were encouraged to exert their 
feeble strength once more and resume their march 
as well as they could/' 

So it was with the survivors of the Sao Raphael's 
crew. Cavalleiros helped convicts and convicts 
helped cavalleiros, not always for money but often 
from sheer manliness and charity. One gleam of 
comfort they had. During the last day the scouts 
had heard no shouts from the hill-tops, and the hope 
spurred them on that they had passed beyond the 
territory of those natives whose enmity they had 
aroused, and might soon reach others who would 
befriend them. 

On the sixth day after the massacre of de Brito’s 
party, they came to rocks again. While they were 
scattering in search of shellfish a shout was heard 
from a tree-crowned promontory that jutted out 
into the sea. All stood still to listen. The Arab, 
on being questioned, declared that he believed, 
though he was not sure, that the shout was not a 
threat but a friendly greeting. Desperate with 
need, the party left the shore, and keeping well 
together followed a path that struck inland from 
the beach. An hour later they crossed the prom- 
ontory, and saw below them a broad inlet, the 
very same which Vasco da Gama had entered seventy- 
four years before, and on the nearer shore, a cluster 
of huts surrounded by cornfields and cattle pasturing 
near by. 


CHAPTER IX 


IN WHICH HENRIQUE RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS 
SWORD 

Some three centuries after the wreck of the Sao 
Raphael a missionary named the promontory that 
juts into the sea to the south of Durban harbour, 
the Berea^ because the tribe that inhabited it were 
“ more noble than the Zulus, among whom he 
had first endeavoured to settle. The forerunners of 
those who won the missionary’s praise were equally 
hospitable. Before the sun had set each member of 
the shipwrecked party had received as much good 
food as he could eat, a great deal more in fact than 
in his feeble condition he could eat with safety. 
One or two died that night. 

For three days the company did little else but 
eat and sleep. On the fourth they marched a mile 
or two in order to encamp again at the village of 
Ijolo, the chief. As soon as the new camp was 
pitched. Father Sebastian reminded them of their 
spiritual duties and the rest of the day was devoted 
to pious exercises. First the company, reciting the 
Litanies of Our Lady, followed the Dominican 
barefoot in solemn procession through the camp. 


154 JOHN TEMPLE 

Then a cross and a rude altar were erected, and 
Masses were said for the souls of de Brito and his 
companions. 

Ijolo and his people watched these proceedings 
from a distance, and discussed with each other their 
object. Probably they decided that it was some 
curious kind of game, for when the Portuguese 
dispersed and began to prepare the evening meal 
Ijolo conveyed through the Arab an invitation to 
the whole company to meet him next day on the 
hill that overlooked the inlet. The Portuguese, 
glad enough to amuse themselves after the misery 
they had suffered, accepted the invitation, and on 
the following day witnessed a form of sport, now 
obsolete, but once common among the natives of 
Natal. A score of oxen had been brought to the 
hill-top. At a signal from Ijolo these were driven head- 
long down the hillside, their owners following hard 
after them, shouting and whistling to stimulate and 
direct their charges. The oxen raced straight ahead 
for half a mile, and then, with no guidance save the 
voices of their owners, turned at a right angle and 
galloped along a course that had been agreed upon. 
This was an imaginary circle described round the 
place at which Ijolo and the Portuguese stood, so 
that those on the hill-top looking down could see 
oxen racing in a wide circle round them, guided by 
the voices of their panting owners, who were able to 
keep up with them by running round the hill on a 
smaller circle and at a higher level. It was a game 
that needed an extraordinarily high degree of training 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 155 

on the part of the oxen, as well as speed, endurance, 
skill, and considerable lung power on the part of 
those who ran parallel with and directed them. 
Although many of the native spectators on the hill- 
top complicated matters by yelling encouragement 
to those oxen which they wished to win, and, for 
their notions of what is sportsmanlike were primitive, 
false directions to those which they wished to lose 
the race, only five of the cattle put themselves out 
of the running by taking an unauthorized short cut. 
Twice round the hill they raced and then, foaming 
at the mouth, turned sharply inwards and together 
with their perspiring masters breasted the hill with 
one final headlong spurt to where Ijolo stood. 

The sport had the excellent effect of establishing 
more firmly the friendship between Ijolo’s people 
and the Portuguese. Unfortunately it inspired the 
latter with a desire — that proved costly — to give an 
exhibition of their own national sport. 

“ Come, senhors,’’ cried out one of the caval- 
leiros, “ let us have a bull fight, and show the 
Kaffirs what we can do.” 

In spite of prudent objections from Ramires the 
suggestion was received with enthusiasm. 

“It will help us to forget our miseries,” urged 
one. 

“ Oxen are cheap enough, and we can use the 
meat afterwards,” said another. 

“ A couple of bulls will be enough to show what 
we can do,” continued a third ; “ and we ought to 
make some return for the Kaffirs’ hospitality.” 


156 JOHN TEMPLE 

The lieutenant continued to protest, but the 
majority overruled his prudent counsels. A bull 
was purchased and driven into Ijolo’s cattle-kraal, 
and a young and athletic cavalleiro, having borrowed 
Ramires’ sword, advanced to fight with it. The 
bull, however, having been accustomed all its life to 
treatment as considerate as that which is said to be 
lavished on the horses of Bedouin Arabs, refused to 
perform its part in the sport. While the cavalleiro 
waved a rag in its face it chewed the cud with stolid 
indifference. When the amateur matador pricked 
its hide it bellowed with terror, and made desperate 
attempts to escape from the ring. In disgust, the 
cavalleiro gave it the death stroke, and called for 
another. A second bull was brought, driven into 
the kraal, and ignominiously butchered. The tame- 
ness of the proceedings made the Portuguese all the 
more reckless in their desire to make a display. 
More bulls were bought, and other cavalleiros in- 
sisted on attempting to show their skill. Six were 
killed, and still not one had shown fight. Prudence 
was forgotten. More bulls, and again more, were 
recklessly bought, driven into the kraal, bullied for 
a while, and slaughtered. 

At last darkness put an end to the ignoble exhi- 
bition, and the Portuguese, having far more fresh 
meat on their hands than they could possibly eat, 
invited Ijolo and all his people to a feast. This 
was an invitation such as the savages thoroughly 
understood. ' As the strangers provided meat they, 
as a matter of course, supplied beer and music. 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 157 

Messengers were despatched in every direction, and 
soon from each scattered group of huts there came 
files of men and women, some of the former carry- 
ing drums, all the latter bearing great pots of the 
kind of beer that is brewed in Africa to-day, and has 
been brewed perhaps ever since the African first 
learned to cultivate the millet from which it is made. 

Very soon half a hundred fires were alight, and 
the meat, except such little as the Portuguese re- 
served for their own use, was apportioned, the heads 
to the herd boys, the shins to the slaves, the briskets 
to the elders of the tribe, and the other parts accord- 
ing to the custom which ordained that only men of 
certain rank should eat certain joints. When the 
moon rose the drums began to beat and the savages 
to dance, the men on one side of the village, the 
women on the other, the children wherever they 
liked, so long as they did not interfere with the 
enjoyment of their elders. Now an African dance, 
as many travellers have discovered to their cost, is 
easily set going but very difficult to stop. Twice 
the sun rose, and twice it set, but never for a moment 
did the dancing or the drumming cease. Worn-out 
dancers from time to time fell out of the rank, per- 
spiring drummers relinquished their instruments to 
those waiting to take their places, and sat down for 
another meal, or snatched a few hours' sleep in an 
empty hut. At last the meat and beer were finished, 
the ranks of the dancers thinned, the drummers one 
by one shouldered their instruments and went off 
home, and Ijolo’s village returned to its normal quiet. 


158 JOHN TEMPLE 

The feast, to use a modern conventional phrase, 
was a great success, but it was a costly success for 
the Portuguese. Of the score more or less of oxen 
that they had wantonly killed not so much meat 
remained as would have filled a single cooking-pot. 
Only the bones and hides remained for them to put 
to what use they could. And when Henrique 
Ramires attempted to buy more, he found, to his 
dismay, that none were for sale. The mind of the 
African property-owner is still almost inexplicable 
to the European. Sometimes he will give lavishly, 
sometimes he will haggle shrewdly, sometimes he 
will absolutely refuse to sell something, though he 
be offered three times the price he accepted the day 
before, and when he refuses to sell, nothing short of 
actual compulsion will make him change his mind. 
The lieutenant, speaking through Temple and the 
Arab, offered higher and still higher prices for 
oxen, but was met with the reply that all the avail- 
able oxen had already been sold. Milk, grain, and 
fish were offered in large quantities, but when these 
were refused and oxen demanded, the savages 
obstinately replied that they needed all they had left 
for future occasions. 

The bad news imparted by the lieutenant came 
as a rude shock to the cavalleiros. The natural 
reaction caused by plenty of good food after misery 
and semi-starvation had induced a feeling that 
the back of the journey was broken, and that the 
greater part of their troubles lay behind them. 
Now forced once again to face grim realities each 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 159 

man had to acknowledge that the behaviour of the 
whole company had been madly reckless. They 
had parted with more metal than they could afford in 
exchange for the oxen they had killed, and, worse 
still, most of them, still untaught by experience, had 
competed so eagerly to obtain fish and the daintier 
varieties of food offered by the Kaffirs that they had 
bid against each other, and thus had so raised the 
price of provisions that the natives had come to 
regard them as gullible fools. 

At a council meeting held as soon as the lieu- 
tenant had made known his inability to buy more 
cattle, it was decided, in the first place, that prepara- 
tions should immediately be made to resume the 
march ; secondly, that for the future no one save the 
lieutenant himself should have authority to buy pro- 
visions. The precaution was a wise one, but it was 
adopted too late to save the Portuguese from the 
consequences of their folly. So much metal had 
passed into the hands of the savages that they had 
as much as they desired, and would buy no more. 

At a cost in precious iron and copper that 
taught them a bitter lesson, enough food for three 
days was collected, and the march was resumed. 
After rounding the inlet on which the port of 
Durban now stands, the company, no longer fearing 
attack, steered by compass overland instead of re- 
suming the difficult march along the shore. And 
now a new hardship met them. Before reaching 
Durban they had suffered hunger, but had found 
water at frequent intervals. Now they had food 


i6o JOHN TEMPLE 

enough for a while, but they experienced the agonies 
of thirst. River-beds were few and for the most 
part dry. 

The country, with its endless monotony of bare 
windswept hill and tree-dotted valley, seemed to 
present pictures such as one sees in a troubled 
dream that constantly changes yet is always the 
same. The wanderers used to quicken their pace 
each time they reached a hill-top, momentarily spurred 
by the hope that the next view would reveal a river. 
Each time their eyes searched just such thirsty 
dongas as they had seen in the valley they had just 
left, and the one before it, and the one before 
that for many a weary mile. At long intervals 
they found shallow ponds of foul-smelling slimy 
water, fringed with a margin of heavy knee-deep 
mud. Sometimes on ground that was marshy in 
the wet season they discovered the deep footprints 
of elephants, baked hard by the sun, and if they 
were lucky these contained a few precious pints of 
filthy water, the result of local showers. Many 
wandered miles from the main body in search of 
water, and if they found it sold it for its weight in 
gold. It often happened that a cup of water con- 
taining three-quarters of a pint was sold for teii 
cruzados, and for the money thus paid some one 
was willing on the next day to risk fetching water 
for gain. 

The search was dangerous, for some went so far 
from the main body that they were unable to find 
it again, and their companions, knowing that it would 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD i6i 


be hopeless to seek for them in that desolate wilder- 
ness, could only speculate whether they had fallen 
down exhausted, or whether, driven mad by agony, 
they had wandered aimlessly till they died. Each 
evening large fires were lit to guide those who had 
strayed away, and each morning Father Sebastian 
said Masses for the souls of those who had failed to 
rejoin the main body. 

And now the food began to fail once more, for 
since leaving Ijolo’s village they had not seen a single 
Kaffir hut. At the end of the second day's march 
the lieutenant put the company on half-rations. At 
the end of the fifth day's march rations were reduced 
again. If one of the company threw down his load 
to chase a lizard or an iguana, all those nearest him 
joined in the hunt and fought over the morsel of 
food when it was caught. If the body of a dead 
beast was discovered, the whole body halted and ate 
until not an ounce of carrion was left to the vultures. 
On the morning of the eighth day the last morsel of 
food bought from Ijolo's people was eaten. As if 
cynical Fate had decided that nothing should be 
lacking to render the company wretched, they were 
tantalized by the sight all around them of thriving 
life. Large herds of ostriches, eland, springbuck, 
and other kinds of animals that can exist for long 
periods without water were scattered over the country. 
Had they been able to catch a single one of these they 
would have regained new vigour and new hope, but 
armed only with a couple of clumsy arquebuses and 
a few swords they were as powerless to kill one as 

M 


i 62 JOHN TEMPLE 

an elephant is powerless to kill an eagle. The buck 
allowed them to come within a hundred yards, then 
galloped a little distance, wheeled snorting, watched 
them for a while, and trotted leisurely away as if 
mocking their misery. Birds flew from tree to tree. 
The ground was alive with insects. Every natural 
inhabitant of the wilderness thrived on its natural 
food, while the Portuguese, starving in the midst of 
life, quarrelled and fought for scraps of food that 
disgusted them even as they ate them. 

On the ninth day after leaving Durban they 
reached the T ugela river. At sight of the broad stream 
a feeble cheer arose, and the whole company shambled 
forward, running in feeble spurts until they threw 
themselves down at the water’s edge and drank and 
drank and drank again. For a few hours they rested, 
and then their hunger, which had redoubled since 
they slaked their thirst, spurred them to activity 
again. The river was too deep to ford, and they 
wearily set about collecting driftwood with which to 
build rafts. Two were made and blessed by Father 
Sebastian, who dedicated one to Our Lady of Succour 
and the other to Our Lady of Good Fortune, and 
on these they began to cross. All reached the 
further shore in safety except one man, a young 
cavalleiro. The raft on which he stood was badly 
managed, turned round and round in mid-stream, 
was caught in a current and swept downwards. 
Presently it drifted close to a bluff, swung round 
and round, then began to drift away again. All on 
board leapt for the shore except the cavalleiro. He 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 163 

was standing on the farther side of the raft, which, 
relieved of his companions’ weight, tilted and slid 
from beneath him. 

Save him ! Save the young man, senhors,” 
cried Father Sebastian, plunging chest deep back 
into the water, but the current had already carried 
the cavalleiro beyond reach. Unable to save the 
man’s life, he bethought himself of his soul. 

Blessed Virgin of the Rosary, man’s constant 
protectress in his greatest misery,” cried the friar 
again, hold up his head until I may relieve him of 
his weight of sin.” 

The cavalleiro was battling fiercely against the 
current, beating the water wildly in his attempts to 
swim. All marked the look of terror on his face. 
Father Sebastian raised a hand, made the sign of 
the cross in the air, and muttered — 

Absolve te a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris ” 

But before he could finish the formula, the beat- 
ing hands and staring face had sunk out of sight. 

North of the Tugela the country proved as dry 
and as barren of food as that to the south of the 
river had been, and the company straggled more 
than ever in the search, that continued from earliest 
daylight to the last glimmer of dusk, for the where- 
withal to sustain life. In this search no member of 
the company was more successful than John Temple. 
The Arab, who still made unconvincing protestations 
of love for him, was divided between his desire 
never to let the Englishman out of his sight and the 
grim necessity of finding food and water for himself. 


i 64 JOHN TEMPLE 

It happened therefore that to gain these two ends 
he gave Temple the advantage of his knowledge of 
the country and of his experience. The Arab could 
find water where no one not bred in a desert would 
have thought of looking for it, and where he found 
it, there as a rule he found food. In a dry country, 
every pool of more or less permanent water is a 
centre of life, for although antelopes and other 
mammals can exist for days without water, many 
feebler animals must drink every day. The Arab 
knew this, and when he found a natural pool he 
called Temple, and the pair sat down by the side of 
it, confident that every snake and bird within a 
radius of many miles must visit it during the day. 
Of birds they caught not many, but few snakes 
escaped them, for a snake, being exceedingly deaf 
and not being able to see more than twice its own 
length, can of all moving animals be most easily 
killed. 

John Temple gladly took advantage of the 
Arab’s companionship. He was convinced that the 
man intended to kill him at the very earliest 
opportunity ; but the partnership was too valuable 
to be refused, and he readily agreed that they should 
hunt together, on the understanding that the Arab 
never attempted to get behind his back, a stipulation 
which the Arab reluctantly observed after having 
once or twice, in consequence of disregarding it, felt 
the weight of the Englishman’s fist. 

Temple, like his fellow sufferers, exchanged what 
food he could spare for gold and jewels, but unlike 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 165 

the majority of them he royally spent what he thus 
earned. If he found a man in sore need but 
without the means of purchasing food or water from 
the more fortunate, he gave him freely of whatever 
he had, or gave him a jewel with which to barter. 
This he did partly from sheer kindheartedness, partly 
from policy, for he kept ever in view the possibility 
of ultimately obtaining his freedom by earning the 
gratitude of those in power. Three people he took 
under his special protection — Henrique Ramires, 
whose good word was best worth having; Father 
Sebastian, whose gentle unselfish nature won the 
esteem of all decent members of the company ; and 
Dona Beatriz Correa da Mattos, who had done him 
a small service in the palace of the Viceroy at Goa 
and a very great one in the hold of the sinking Sao 
Raphael, 

Of these three the one that he most often helped 
was Dona Beatriz. Although this gentle lady soon 
learnt to pounce on a lizard or a locust, when she 
saw one, as eagerly as any of the men, she had been 
taught to look to others for help, and now would 
have looked in vain, so fierce was this grim and 
primitive struggle for existence, had not the English- 
man befriended her, for her reputed prospective 
husband, Dom Vicente d’Alvarez da Saldanha, had 
abandoned all claim to the honour of protecting 
her. 

One evening, after a day in which he had had no 
luck at all. Temple roasted his shoes in the ashes of 
a fire, and shared them with Dona Beatriz. Next 


i66 JOHN TEMPLE 

day there was no need to wander far afield in search 
of food. Within an hour of resuming the march 
those who were in the lead saw by the side of a 
muddy pool a score of vultures standing in a circle 
round what looked like a huge black boulder, but 
which they found to be the carcase of a newly-dead 
rhinoceros. The vultures, too gorged to fly, were 
easily killed, and those who had not the luck to get 
a share of the fresh meat feasted without restraint 
on the carrion. 

It may be imagined that no dissenting voice was 
raised when it was proposed to celebrate the occasion 
by halting for the remainder of the day. After 
eating, the company joined with Father Sebastian 
in reciting a Litany, and then lay down under the 
trees to rest. Dona Beatriz, however, strengthened 
by a good meal (Temple had secured the tenderest 
part of one of the vultures for her), busied herself 
with cutting grass which she afterwards plaited into 
strands. These with much labour she wove into 
a pair of rough but serviceable sandals, and when 
she had accomplished the task, more or less to her 
satisfaction, she called John Temple to her side. 

“ Last night you shared your shoes with me, 
Senhor Englishman,’' she said. Perhaps these 
will serve to take their place.” 

Temple examined the sandals, tried them on, 
took a step or two, and exclaimed — 

‘‘As good shoes as ever I wore! How did you 
learn to make them ? ” 

“Need is a skilful teacher, and the nuns at Goa 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 167 

taught me to use my fingers, though I never put 
them to such good use before.” 

Others crowded round the pair to examine the 
sandals, and very soon those of the company who 
had eaten or sold their shoes busied themselves 
with cutting grass and endeavoring, with very poor 
results, to make footgear for themselves. Dona 
Beatriz, pleased at her own success, oflFered to show 
them how to go to work, and would even have made 
sandals for some of the clumsiest had not Temple 
interfered. 

“ Would you give alms and go hungry your- 
self? ” he protested. “ Make sandals as fast as you 
like, but give them to me to sell for you, so that 
you may not fast when meat and water are sold for 
gold.” 

This was the beginning of a curious partnership 
between the two. Men whose feet were bruised 
and bleeding, readily exchanged for Dona Beatriz’s 
sandals gold they had earned by finding food, gold 
which Temple wisely kept in his own hands. Hence- 
forth the two shared a common purse. What with 
his skill in foraging and Dona Beatriz’s success as a 
sandal-maker, the two were the best-fed members of 
the whole company. When Temple had luck in 
finding food the purse was not drawn upon. When 
he had none, he used their common stock of gold 
and jewels to buy food for both. When they had 
plenty, the pair gave of their abundance to those 
who needed it most. 

The one who most often profited by their charity 


i68 JOHN TEMPLE 

was Henrique Ramires. In his search for food the 
grey-bearded lieutenant was handicapped by his age 
and still more by his efforts to keep the company 
together and preserve some semblance of order 
amongst them. Now in the lead to consult with 
the pilot as to the line of march, now in the rear 
to collect and encourage stragglers, he toiled all 
day, finding little time to care for his own needs 
in his anxiety for the welfare of those under him. 
At last his gallant heart could bear the dreadful 
strain no more. One day Temple, having had the 
luck to find a clayey spring, was hurrying back to 
the main body with a pot full of water and a wallet 
full of frogs and tiny land crabs, when he overtook 
the lieutenant lying prone upon the ground. 

“ Come, senhor ! he cried, “ you are too far 
behind the company to rest. Take a drink and 
march on.” 

“ I can march no more,” replied the lieutenant, 
feebly ; “ leave me and go on.” 

For the love of Heaven, senhor, rouse yourself. 
If not for your own sake, struggle on for the sake 
of the company, for without you to keep them 
together, this mongrel crew will perish miserably.” 

“ Do you think I would endure the misery of 
this march for my own sake — I, who have no 
property but my sword, and nothing but a paupePs 
old age to look forward to ? ” replied the lieutenant ; 
yet after he had drunk he rose to his feet, and, 
leaning on Temple’s shoulder, stumbled forward. 

For half a mile he struggled on, panting hard 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 169 

and leaning more and more heavily; at last he 
blundered helplessly against a stone and fell once 
more. 

‘"No use, senhor!*’ he cried faintly. “My 
sight is dimming fast. Quick; fetch the priest 
before I die.’* 

Temple laid him down and looked anxiously into 
his face. A grey pallor had spread over his cheek 
and his eyes were opaque and glassy. The lieutenant 
was utterly worn out. In spite of his age he had 
always set the example in any labour, and though 
his rank should have exempted him he insisted on 
carrying a load. He had borne, too, more than his 
share of anxiety, for while the rest of the company 
had been concerned only to save their own lives, on 
him had rested the anxiety of preserving the unity 
of the straggling column. To keep touch between 
those who marched in the lead and those who 
straggled behind, he had covered each day more 
ground than the boldest of those who ranged far 
afield for food and water. Like the hero he was 
he had worked while an ounce of strength remained 
in him. Now the night in which no man can work 
was fast descending upon him. 

In a little while Temple returned with Father 
Sebastian, and went apart while the dying man con- 
fessed his sins and received the assurance of God’s 
forgiveness. When this was done the Dominican 
called him to come back to the lieutenant, and 
himself passed on out of sight. 

“ Senhor Englishman, I swore that you should 


170 JOHN TEMPLE 

not hang if you acted faithfully. You have done 
your duty well, and had I lived to reach Sofala I 
would have recommended you for pardon and 
reward. Accept the good-will for the good deed 
and do me one last service. Here is my sword. 
Take it as a gift, and in return use it to save an old 
man from the bitterest agonies of death. I sent 
the priest away because he is too holy to understand 
a sinful man’s weakness.” 

“My God! You ask too much, senhor 1 ” 
cried Temple. “ I will stay with you till the end, 
but I cannot kill you.” 

“ You must not stay. For the sake of the rest 
of the company you must go forward. On you, and 
on the Arab, the safety of our companions depends, 
and each is useless without the other. * As your 
officer I command you to go on. As a friend I pray 
you to save me from the agony of a lingering death.” 

Temple hid his face in his hands and groaned. 
Common sense and humanity bade him obey the 
dying man, but all his natural instincts revolted 
against the deed. 

“ Think, senhor,” pleaded the lieutenant. 
“ Though I can march no more I may live for hours, 
for days, in misery, and picture to yourself what the 
end would be.” 

There was a sound of heavily flapping wings. 
Temple looked up. A vulture had perched on the 
limb of a tree above them, and settled itself with the 
patient air of one who can aflFord to wait for that 
which cannot escape him. 


RAMIRES GIVES AWAY HIS SWORD 171 

‘‘I have heard that they will peck a man’s eyes 
out while he still lives/’ said the dying man. 


After performing his priestly duties, Father 
Sebastian had hurried on. When out of sight of the 
lieutenant, however, he lingered and looked back. 
There was no one in sight. He knelt and prayed. 

Presently the sound of hurried footsteps dis- 
turbed him. Temple was hurrying towards him, 
stumbling as he walked, for his eyes were dim with 
tears and he was trembling as if with ague. 

Is he dead, senhor ? ” asked the priest, rising to 
his feet. 

“He is dead, father,” answered Temple. 

For a while they went on together in silence. 

“Would that you were a Catholic, my son,” 
said the priest presently ; “ for I fear you need to be 
relieved of a mortal sin.” A moment afterwards, 
a novel and daring thought struck him. “ But 
perhaps God will understand,” he added simply. 


CHAPTER X 


THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN DOM BALTHAZAR d’eLVAS 

After the death of the lieutenant the last semblance 
of order was abandoned. Many threw away their 
loads of metal, and though the more prudent cursed 
them for their selfish folly, no attempt was made to 
punish them. The pilot, compass in hand, steered 
his course towards Sofala in his own interests, and 
the rest followed, herding together more by instinct 
than by discipline. 

Two days later they crossed a river, wading neck 
deep. On the farther side they found a group of 
Kaffir huts, and at once those in the lead committed 
another of those mad undisciplined actions which 
even more than natural obstacles brought misery on 
the party. Without making any attempt to get the 
food they needed by honest barter, they burst into 
the village, clubbing the goats and overturning the 
granaries. A few natives who had been surprised 
in the huts darted away after a feeble bewildered 
protest and scattered among the fields. 

Catch those men before they rouse the tribe,'' 
shouted a cavalleiro who had more foresight than the 
rest, but even in pillage the misery-maddened crew 
failed to act in unison and the Kaffirs escaped un- 


DEATH OF DOM BALTHAZAR 173 

harmed. Every member of the company had enough 
to eat that night, but the meal was a dear one. 
While they ate in one cluster of huts, from another 
a mile distant war drums were signalling an alarm to 
the countryside, and when next morning the march 
was resumed watchers from the hill-tops marked 
their movements and shouted the news to each 
other. Within an hour bands of savages began to 
hover round them, and before noon it was clear that 
a fight was inevitable. 

Fortunately for the Portuguese the sense of 
danger had kept them together, and, leaderless and 
undisciplined though they were, they formed a square 
on the summit of a steep hillock. The savages 
halted in front of them brandishing their spears and 
shouting defiance, then extending in a long line 
encircled the hillock and advanced to the attack. 
The Portuguese, half-starved and almost without 
arms, could have done little against the spears of the 
Kaffirs, and their earthly troubles would soon have 
been at an end had not the savages come on in so 
compact a body that even an arquebusier could not 
fail to hit them. Black Jorge, the gunner, having 
had the sense to expect trouble, had his piece loaded 
and his match alight. Resting his arquebus on a 
rock he fired into the brown of the advancing swarm 
with such good effect that, terrified by the discharge 
of the gunpowder, and seeing two of their number, 
struck apparently by magic, fall wounded, the savages 
wavered, gave away, and finally, after a discharge 
from the second arquebus, scattered in all directions. 


174 JOHN TEMPLE 

The Portuguese raised a triumphant shout to 
see them go, but it soon seemed as if they had but 
exchanged a swift death for a lingering one. During 
the rest of that day, and for the next three days, 
though the Kaffirs did not attack again they hovered 
so closely on the flanks of the little column that no 
man dared stray in search of food. Each day, as 
soon as it was light enough to see, bands of savages 
took up positions behind and on each side of the 
company and throughout each day they dogged the 
Portuguese, patiently, mercilessly, never approaching 
to close quarters, but never falling far behind. 

The column moved faster than it had done for 
weeks, partly from a desire to shake off the Kaffirs, 
but principally because, being of necessity huddled 
into a compact body, only those in the lead could 
hope to find food. Each man, therefore, made 
frequent desperate attempts to get ahead of his 
fellows. The pace became terrible for the weaker 
ones. On the second day a man fell down, crying 
to his fellows that he must rest or die, but the 
column passed on unheeding till a dreadful scream 
caused them to look back. The savages had over- 
taken the unhappy wretch and were jostling each 
other in their eagerness to stab him. With a cry 
of horror the Portuguese moved on faster than 
before. 

It seemed to be the beginning of the end. Such 
chance scraps of food as the leaders found only 
seemed to sharpen their hunger. Man after man 
fell behind, yet stumbled and struggled after his 


DEATH OF DOM BALTHAZAR 175 

companions, crying to them to wait for him only for 
a minute, till the savages overtook him and he cried 
no more. The column moved like a herd of 
famished driven cattle, fearful of their drivers but 
looking all round for food as they go. Not one 
held out a hand to help a comrade, or suggested 
that the pace of the party should be regulated by 
that of its weaker members. Fear drove them 
from behind. Hunger led them forward. If a 
man fell down, those behind him stepped over 
his prostrate body and went on. “ Thus they passed 
over each other without showing any signs of 
feeling, as if they had been a herd of irrational 
animals, their eyes and attention fixed upon the 
ground to see if they could discover herb, bone, or 
insect on which they might lay hands, even though 
it might be poisonous, and if any of these appeared, 
all rushed to seize it first ; and there were often dis- 
putes between relations and friends over a locust, 
beetle, or lizard, so great was the want and suffering 
which made such base things of value.’* 

In the centre of the struggling throng swayed 
the litter in which Dom Balthazar d’Elvas was 
carried. Again and again his bearers set him down 
and swore they would carry him no further, but each 
time he distributed gold and jewels in such profusion 
that greed overcame the fears and sufferings of his 
bearers and they carried him again. His store of 
wealth seemed inexhaustible. Five times had he 
given each of his bearers jewels enough to make him 
rich for life, yet whenever a man wished to sell a 


176 JOHN TEMPLE 

root or a piece of carrion that he had found, the 
captain had been able to outbid all others. 

On the evening of the third day, just as they 
were selecting a position for the camp, a convict 
found a leopard’s head very rotten and of an evil 
smell.” He ate the tongue and sold the rest for 
twenty cruzados to Dom Balthazar, who boiled it in 
a pot, standing guard over it with drawn sword 
while it was cooking. While he was doing so. 
Father Sebastian entreated him to spare a little of 
the broth for Senhora Ribeiro, and received a blow 
for his pains. That night several of the cavalleiros 
debated among themselves whether the company 
would not profit if the captain were left behind. 
The captain’s carriers, too, discussed a plan by which 
they might obtain the balance of his wealth without 
suffering any longer the heart-breaking toil of 
carrying him. 

The leopard’s head that Dom Balthazar refused 
to share with a woman afforded the last meal that 
he ever ate. Next day a swamp, in which channels 
of slimy green water wound around clumps of reeds, 
lay across the path of the column. Beyond it 
stretched the firm sand of the sea shore. Eager to 
reach the comparative safety of the beach, where 
they could be attacked only on one side, and to 
forage for food thrown up by the waves, the com- 
pany plunged into the mud, and floundered about 
in search of a way across. 

But the water was deep and the mud on the 
reedy idets too soft to afford foothold. In the 


DEATH OF DOM BALTHAZAR 177 

search for a ford the company gradually spread along 
the margin of the lake, floundering and splashing in 
the treacherous green slime, until the savages who 
were watching from a safe distance, thinking it a 
favourable moment to cut off stragglers, raised a 
shout and advanced to attack. 

In this crisis ‘'all ran together and all went upon 
their knees in prayer, begging Our Lady by her 
Holy Conception to obtain for them from her 
Glorious Son such another miracle as was wrought 
for the children of Israel in their going out of Egypt 
and their passage of the Red Sea, by showing them 
a road by which they might leave that place, and 
that they might find some means of subsistence to 
strengthen their almost failing spirits, and might not 
perish in such want. And as her office is to inter- 
cede for sinners, by her guidance they found a means 
of crossing the swamp. At this evident miracle they 
again knelt down and (not with dry eyes) rendered 
thanks to Our Lord for such a favour, and besides 
private vows they promised in the name of all a 
pilgrimage to Our Lady of Guadeloupe and a solemn 
High Mass, and the same in the first church dedi- 
cated to the Virgin which they should reach. And 
it fell out that the savages did not follow them and 
troubled them no more.” 

The last to cross were the men who had been 
carrying Dom Balthazar, but Dom Balthazar was 
not with them, and they had left the litter behind. 

“ Where is the captain ? ” asked one of the 
cavalleiros. 


178 JOHN TEMPLE 

‘‘ The Kaffirs overtook us in the middle of the 
swamp and attacked us/' replied one of the men 
sullenly, “ and one threw a spear at the captain and 
killed him, so we left his body and ran." 

An ominous silence fell over the company. Not 
a man doubted but that murder had been done, but 
there was none with authority to make inquiries, 
none to order the murderers to be punished, and 
none to carry out such an order if it were made. 
Presently a man rose to his feet and walked away, 
saying that the captain might be dead, but that for 
his part he meant to live, and was going to search 
for food. Another followed his example. Presently 
the whole company, forgetting everything but their 
most primitive needs, were scattered along the 
margin of the swamp and by the sea. 

While hunting for frogs in the mud. Temple 
noticed one of the men who had helped to carry the 
captain call another, and after whispering together 
for a while the two waded back across the swamp 
together. That evening these two offered for sale 
lumps of flesh that was obviously not carrion. 

What meat is that ? " asked one of the caval- 
leiros, suspiciously. 

‘‘ Better meat than you have eaten for a long 
while," answered the convict with a brutal laugh. 
“ If you won't buy, others will." 

The Kaffirs did not follow us into the swamp," 
remarked another cavalleiro, but no one answered 
him. 

The group that had gathered round the two 


DEATH OF DOM BALTHAZAR 179 

convicts dispersed, none caring to look his neighbour 
in the face. Murder had been committed that day, 
and no one had protested, but the men had not yet 
sunk as low as openly to countenance cannibalism. 
Yet when darkness had fallen, and none could read 
the horror and disgust on each other’s faces, the 
flesh found buyers. 


CHAPTER XI 


IN WHICH DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 

Dom Vicente lay long awake that night revolving 
many thoughts. It had occurred to him that if the 
company ever reached Sofala, whoever was their 
leader might reasonably expect honour and rewards. 
Dom Balthazar was dead. Why should not he, 
Dom Vicente, the highest in rank, take the dead 
captain's place ? He would need to be able to put 
forward some claim to the gratitude of those in 
power, for circumstances had upset the original 
purpose for which he had joined the expedition. 
To obtain the captaincy of Sena, without the virtual 
promise of which he would not have left Goa, it was 
necessary to be the husband of Dona Beatriz, but 
Dom Vicente had excellent reason to suppose that 
as matters stood that lady would enter a convent or 
even starve rather than carry out her part of the 
arrangement. If he were not to be the captain of 
Sena it would be necessary to obtain some other 
lucrative post. Surely one would be given him if 
he were recognized as the leader of a party that had 
won its way, in spite of fearful difficulties and 
dangers, across more than two hundred leagues of 
unexplored land. 

i8o 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT i8i 


These reflections led on to a daring thought. 
Why should he despair of being appointed captain 
of Sena? The only thing that stood between him 
and the coveted post was Dona Beatriz’s refusal 
to marry him. It was highly improbable, however, 
that the lady would ever live to reach Sofala. Day 
by day the hardships of the march were proving too 
great even for men. What chance was there of a 
woman winning through ? If Dona Beatriz died, 
why should not he, when reporting himself to the 
Governor-General, declare that he had married her 
on the voyage, and claim the post in her name? 
It would be necessary to have witnesses to endorse 
his story — not too many, for there is danger in 
numbers when lies have to be sworn to — but these 
could be bought. The friar must be got rid of ; 
but he was an old man, and the chances were against 
his living to see Sofala. One or two of the caval- 
leiros, also, seemed to be sentimental fools ! On 
the whole, it would be better to reach safety accom- 
panied only by convicts who for their own sakes 
would tell whatever tale he wished. 

For an hour or more he lay elaborating schemes. 
Then he arose, stole quietly among the sleepers, 
and aided by the light of the dying fires at which 
some had cooked their horrible meal, found and 
roused a dozen of the sturdiest convicts, and leading 
them out of earshot suggested a plan for abandoning 
the rest of the party, pushing on alone, and repre- 
senting themselves on reaching Sofala as the sole 
survivors of the ill-fated expedition. Very little 


i 82 JOHN TEMPLE 

persuasion was needed to make the carefully selected 
gang of ruffians agree to such of the main outlines 
of Dom Vicente’s scheme as he revealed to them ; 
but there was some debate as to details. Several 
having sense enough to know their own helplessness 
without a guide, insisted that the pilot should be 
of the party, and after a long discussion the Italian 
was noiselessly aroused and invited to join the 
conspiracy. He was willing enough to throw in 
his lot with the gang on condition that Temple 
and the Arab were of the party, pointing out that 
it was necessary to have some one who could barter 
with the natives, since every attempt to take food 
by force had resulted in disaster. 

Now Dom Vicente mentally classed Temple 
among the sentimental fools who might refuse to 
endorse his report to the Governor-General, but 
he recognized that he would be a valuable member 
of the party until Sofala was reached. It was 
possible, too, that being a man of resource he 
would, if left behind, find means ultimately to lead 
the rest of the company to Sofala, which would 
necessarily upset his own claims to the post he 
desired. 

Would he keep silence when we tell our tale ? '' 
objected the fidalgo. ‘‘ He seems to have an eye 
for Dona Beatriz. Perhaps he might get soft- 
hearted and contradict our story in hopes that the 
Governor should send an expedition to look for the 
rest of the party.” 

“ Perhaps he will die when we have no further 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 183 

need of him,” suggested one of the convicts with a 
laugh. “ I for one have a knife.” 

“ Why should there be any survivors to look 
for ? ” protested another convict. “ Why should 
we not see to it that our tale is true ? Consider ! 
The cavalleiros have been as keen to find food and 
as keen to sell it for jewels as any of us. We who 
carried the captain know it well, for half the jewels 
he gave us went into their pockets to buy food for 
our bellies. Half the men we leave behind have 
their pockets full of gold. Are we to turn our 
backs on it? Need we go in fear lest the others 
should reach Sofala after all and bring our necks 
within reach of the halter, when ten minutes' quick 
work will put the gold in our pockets and us out 
of danger of having our tale upset ? Call away the 
Englishman, wait for the first gleam of light — the 
dawn is nearly here — and then kill them swiftly as 
they lie.” 

The plot was admirably conceived. Unfortu- 
nately for the conspirators, it had been planned 
in the dark. It happened that when Dom Vicente 
had stolen among the sleepers, choosing his com- 
panions, he had had the misfortune to stumble 
against Temple's legs. The Englishman, ever on 
his guard against a midnight visit from the Arab, 
had awakened in time to see men leave the camp, 
and had had the curiosity silently to join them. 
While the plot was under discussion he had formed 
one of the circle, lying on the ground lest his 
figure, outlined against the firelight beyond, should 


1 84 JOHN TEMPLE 

be recognized, and had heard every word that 
passed. 

Now, Temple was an honest, kindly-hearted 
man, but, like the boatswain in Shakespeare's 
Tempesty there was, at that time at least, no one of 
that company whom he loved more dearly than 
himself. The convicts' suggestion to murder the 
sleepers in cold blood horrified him, but his first 
action was mainly prompted by the knowledge that 
he must fight for his life as soon as the conspirators 
knew that he had overheard a plot one of the details 
of which so greatly concerned himself. 

Rising to his feet with as careless an air as he 
could assume and endeavouring to disguise his 
voice, he muttered that he would fetch the English- 
man. Unfortunately, as he did so the first puff of 
the dawn wind fanned the fires so that the flickering 
flame lit up his face. 

“ It is the Englishman himself," cried Dom 
Vicente. He has overheard. Kill him before he 
arouses the others ! " 

A burly convict sprang at him, knife in hand. 
Temple drew his sword, the sword that Henrique 
Ramires had carried for so many honourable years, 
and sent it home into the man's ribs. 

“Awake! awake! Help! To me, all honest 
men ! " he cried, jerking out the blade and running 
backwards. “ Awake for your lives ! " 

For the next two minutes there was a bewilder- 
ing scrimmage, in which no one knew exactly 
whom he hit, still less why he hit. As one sleeper 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 185 

after another leapt to his feet, he saw that Temple 
was being attacked, and as the Englishman never 
stopped yelling ‘‘ Awake for your lives,” they con- 
cluded that they could best save their own skins by 
taking his side. Some drew their knives and stabbed 
blindly at those who were attacking him, but more 
fought with their bare hands, clutching at the con- 
victs’ throats. Black Jorge clubbed his arquebus 
and felled two, and Furtado, one of the cavalleiros, 
neither seeing nor caring whom he struck, drove a 
blazing firebrand full into Dom Vicente’s face. The 
fidalgo stepped backwards to avoid the blow, tripped 
and fell, and in another moment such of the rest 
of the conspirators as remained on their feet were 
penned together and surrounded by men who, 
though they knew not in the least what the trouble 
was about, were ready to obey Temple’s command 
to brain the first one who moved. 

“ You, Dom Vicente, stand up and step forward 
two paces. Senhor Furtado, kindly bind his hands. 
Jorge will hold them for you,” said Temple in tones 
of command that no one seemed concerned to 
challenge. “ Now you, Gomez, step forward. Bind 
his hands, Senhor Ferao and Senhor de Paz, if you 
please.” 

It was long since any member of the company 
had taken any orders from any one, but the English- 
man was obeyed with as little question as if he had 
had the King of Portugal’s commission in his pocket. 
When all the conspirators had been securely bound 
Temple described the plot they had hatched and how 


i86 JOHN TEMPLE 

he came to overhear it. The prisoners themselves 
sat sullenly mute, realizing that nothing was to be 
gained by denying the story. 

“And now,*' continued Temple, when he had 
finished his explanation of the incident, “you see 
what comes of having no leader. We are all like 
brute beasts, each man thinking only of himself, 
instead of loyally supporting and succouring his 
fellows. Henceforth I will be your leader. Let 
every man take notice of what I say, for I will say 
nothing but I will answer it before God. We are 
very far from help. He have only such food as the 
desert affords. We are in a savage land and sur- 
rounded on every side by dangers. We must have 
these evils that have grown among us redressed, for 
by the life of God it takes my wits from me to think 
of it. We must adopt a new plan. The cavalleiro 
and the convict, the man with gold in his wallet and 
the man with none, must work together for the 
common welfare. Let us show ourselves to be one 
in heart under God and work each according to his 
strength for the safety of the whole. As God shall 
help me I will serve you faithfully, but I take Him 
to witness that I will kill, without hesitation or 
remorse, the man who disobeys me. Does any man 
challenge me ? If so, let him do so now.” 

There was silence. No man cared to face the 
Englishman single-handed, and all the most sensible 
members of the column recognized both that their 
safety demanded that they should have a leader and 
that none was better fitted for the post. 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 187 

If Temple had laid deep schemes to make him- 
self leader of the party — and since the death of 
Ramires he had seen that sooner or later they must 
have a strong leader or perish miserably — he could 
not have declared himself at a more opportune mo- 
ment. The deliberate murder of Dom Balthazar, 
followed swiftly by the almost open cannibalism of 
some of the party, had awakened in the minds of the 
majority a horror that reached its culminating point 
when they realized how nearly the plot of Dom 
Vicente and his gang had succeeded. For the perils 
natural to their situation there was no remedy, but 
they felt the need of protection from peril born of 
the greed and bestial selfishness of their own selves. 

Listen, then,’’ continued Temple, while I give 
my orders. I spare these men’s lives ” — he pointed to 
the crestfallen gang of conspirators — ‘^because they 
will be useful as burden-bearers. They shall carry 
such metal as there is still amongst us. They shall 
march in single file, the pilot at their head to give 
us the course, and twice each day I will appoint 
twelve men to guard them lest they seek to do us 
evil. The rest of you, in parties of three, shall search 
for the food we so sorely need. Each party is to 
be within sight of, but as far as conveniently may 
be from, the party to the right and to the left of it. 
There is to be no more selling of food. If a man 
finds food he shall bring it to me to be distributed. 
If he find more than he can carry, he is to report to 
me at once. If food is sold and I come to hear of 
it, the buyer and the seller shall be flogged on the 


i88 JOHN TEMPLE 

first offence and hanged on the second. So also 
will I deal with any man who, without my consent, 
enters a Kaffir’s hut or has intercourse with a Kaffir, 
for it may be that the greed of one man will bring 
ruin on us all. If any man learns that these rules 
are broken let him report to me, and he shall have 
the offender’s share of food for one day as reward. 
If, on the other hand, he fails to report and I come 
to hear of it, he shall be flogged. Lastly, no man 
shall be abandoned unless safe amongst friendly 
natives, and as for the women and child, they shall 
not be abandoned at all while there remain enough 
of us with strength to carry them.” 

History teaches that the best thing that can 
happen to a lawless rabble is to fall under the power 
of a benevolent despot. In Temple’s rule despotism 
at first was more apparent than benevolence, yet he 
was obeyed, for whenever he punished a man the 
rest approved, knowing that the punishment was 
not only just but expedient. Within a few hours 
of the time when the party had accepted his leader- 
ship a cavalleiro, who had lagged behind the rest of 
his party in the search for food, was denounced for 
keeping to himself the discovery of a cluster of 
mussels on the shore. All supposed that Temple 
would have too much respect for the cavalleiro’s 
rank to subject him to the indignity of a flogging, 
but they were wholesomely surprised to see him 
receive a severe thrashing. His denouncer, unfortu- 
nately, not having been accustomed to receive justice 
at the hands of his superior officers, forthwith got 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 189 

the idea that Temple, being a convict himself, in- 
tended to favour his fellows at the cost of the 
cavalleiros. Next day he appropriated food, was 
flogged, tried to knife the flogger, and within a few 
more minutes was hanged by the neck from a baobab 
tree as an example and a warning to others. From 
that day onward until the Englishman himself dis- 
obeyed his own iron rules no man earned punishment. 

Since crossing the swamp, the Kaffirs who had 
dogged them thus far had ceased to molest them, 
so that the company was once again able to extend 
in search of food. The advantage of the organized 
search immediately became apparent. Advancing 
as they did in a long line, much food was found that 
would have been missed by men each of whom was 
acting independently. Hitherto, when a man found 
a pool he had kept the knowledge of it to himself, 
so that he might sell the water obtained from it. 
Now, when a pool was found, all were called to it, 
and when the whole company had drunk, if the 
pool were a small one all waded into it, so that 
any fish it might contain, suffocated by the mud 
stirred up, should leap on to the bank. The trick 
was explained to Temple by a man who, before 
embarking on a career of crime, had herded cattle 
in the Lusitanian hills, and had often caught himself 
a meal of fish by driving his cattle through the ponds 
at which he watered them. Even in the hunting 
of frogs it was found that three pair of hands acting 
in concert were more than three times as successful 
as one pair would have been. On one occasion, too, 


190 JOHN TEMPLE 

a party startled a warthog. No three men could 
have hoped to catch it, but the finders hailed the 
parties to right and left of them. The whole long 
line converged. The pig was driven into a marsh 
and held at bay there while Black Jorge brought 
the cumbrous machinery of his arquebus into motion 
and shot it. 

One day, a week after Temple had assumed 
command, towards the middle of the afternoon, 
those in the lead turned back with news that Kaffir 
huts were in sight. As before. Temple ordered the 
company to close in, halt, and prepare for an attack 
while he, accompanied by the Arab and a small 
guard, went forward to treat for food. 

The main body waited for two weary hours ; 
how impatiently, only those who have suffered semi- 
starvation can realize. No lovelorn swain in lady’s 
bower e’er panted for the appointed hour ” with half 
such longing as those desperately hungry men 
awaited the results of Temple’s negotiations. To 
give edge to their impatience, pots of food — mussels, 
oysters, dead starfish, crabs, octopods and sea slugs — 
stood ready for the daily distribution, yet so strict 
was Temple’s rule that no one dared eat so much as 
a single mussel. 

At last Ferao, who had been left in command of 
the main body, grew anxious, and sent forward a 
couple of scouts with orders to approach the huts 
cautiously and find out, if they could do so without 
being seen, whether anything had gone wrong. 
They returned with the report that Temple and his 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 191 

guard were seated talking to at least a score of 
natives, and that so far as they could judge all was 
going well. 

‘‘ I expect that cursed Englishman is enjoying 
himself with a rib of fat goat. When he has eaten 
we may have the scraps,'' grumbled one of the men. 
‘‘ Let us at least start to cook what we've got, 
senhor." 

If you want a flogging you may help yourself," 
replied Ferao curtly. “ Have patience." 

They beguiled the time by speculating what 
Temple would bring them. When this meagre 
topic failed, unable to concentrate their minds on 
any subject not connected with food, they wistfully 
discussed with elaborate detail meals they had eaten 
in happier days. From time to time one jumped 
on to a rock, and strained his eyes towards the huts. 

Here comes some one," cried one of the 
watchers at last. Senhor de Paz. He is running." 

Stand to your arms ! There may be trouble," 
cried Ferao, despite the fact that few had any arms 
more effective than a knife. “ What is it, senhor ? 
Is all well ? " 

“ All's well, senhor," replied the cavalleiro, as he 
ran up, panting. “ Except that these men don't 
care for metal. They want cloth. A pound of iron 
will fetch no more than a pot of meal. You are to 
send two more loads of metal, and if any man has 
a shirt, you are to send it too. Meanwhile, you can 
light fires. There will be food enough to cook 
directly." 


192 JOHN TEMPLE 

Among the whole company three ragged and 
very filthy shirts were found. Dom Vicente’s, which 
was one of them, had to be stripped from that 
gallant gentleman by force. Senhor de Paz returned 
with these, accompanied by two men carrying loads 
of copper. Fires were lighted, and another weary 
hour passed. The sun set. The air ceased quivering, 
and distant objects took their natural shape. The 
sky turned from a sheet of shimmering grey steel to 
a limpid pool of ether, in which the tenderest shades 
of the opal played. The waiting men had no eyes 
for it. Their whole thoughts were dominated by 
the desire for food. The violet pall of night swept 
across the sky. A guard was set, and the rest fretted 
impatiently round the fires waiting for their meal. 

At last came the sound of footsteps, talk, and 
laughter, — the first laughter these men had heard 
for many a long day. 

Good food, and plenty for all,” cried Temple, 
hurrying up to the party, and throwing the carcase 
of a newly-killed goat down by the nearest fire ; 
‘‘and better still, good news. Ten days’ march to 
the northwards is the bay of Espirito Santo. There 
is a Portuguese ship there, trading cloth for ivory 
with a savage king they call Inyaka. I have already 
hired a man to go swiftly with a letter to the captain 
of the ship, entreating him to send men to meet us, 
and if he cannot do that, at least to delay sailing till 
we reach him.” 

“ It hath pleased God to forgive us the sins for 
which He has justly punished us,” cried Father 


DOM VICENTE DEVISES A PLOT 193 

Sebastian, holding up his hand. “Now let us thank 
Him who hath brought us through so many and so 
great dangers.” 

Next morning no man suggested that they should 
halt and rest. Before the freshness of dawn had 
given way to glaring, scorching day, the dead fires 
of the camping ground were left a good league 
behind. 


CHAPTER XII 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 

Their children shall die starving in their sight. 

Who were in such affection bred and born ; 

They shall behold by CafFres’ grasping might 
Her clothing from the lovely lady torn ; 

Shall see her form, so beautiful and white. 

To heat, cold, wind, exposed and all forlorn. 

When she has trod, o’er leagues and leagues of land 
With tender feet upon the burning sand.” 

AubertirC s translation of Camoens* s ** Lusiad** 
Canto F. verse 47. 

For three days they marched through populous 
country. At each halt Temple bartered metal for 
food, till on the third day the last pound of copper 
was exchanged for corn, and each man carried a seven 
days’ supply of meat and grain. The end being in 
sight he could afford, or thought he could afford, to 
be reckless, and in his eagerness to avoid delay he 
gave the savages almost as much as these wily 
children of nature demanded at the beginning of 
each negotiation. 

A native guide led them during these three days. 
On the morning of the fourth he refused to continue, 
saying that for the next three days’ march to the 
northward there was no water. No promise could 

194 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 195 

induce him to go further. Nothing that any of the 
party possessed could tempt him. He was promised 
that if only he would lead them to the ship he should 
help himself to as much of its cargo as he could carry, 
but unfortunately he had had experience of Portuguese 
trading methods and preferred cash to credit. 

The party had been accompanied from village to 
village by a swarm of unofficial guides who had kept 
with the Portuguese partly from lack of any more 
interesting method of passing their time, partly from 
a vain hope that these members of a race that they 
knew to possess many wonderful treasures would at 
some happy moment produce cloth and beads for 
distribution. In vain Temple offered these men the 
same reward as he had offered to the hired guide. 
They declared that apart from being waterless the 
country on ahead was bewitched. The track ran 
along innumerable rough hills, each of which was the 
abode of an evil spirit. No man could pass through 
it without suffering and probable danger. They 
willingly gave many directions as to the path, but 
beyond setting the company a mile or so on its way 
they would do nothing. 

If Temple could have got any one of these men 
out of sight of his fellows he would without hesitation 
have forced him to guide the party, but though 
several cautious attempts were made to segregate a 
single individual, the crowd hung most annoyingly to- 
gether. Unable to arrest the whole lot, and unwilling 
to incur the danger of being attacked, he reluctantly 
gave the order to march, after seeing that each member 


196 JOHN TEMPLE 

of the party was provided with as much water as he 
had means of carrying. 

The guide^s directions as to the road before them 
were copious, but not precise. When he had said 
that the waterless country before them stretched for 
a three days' march he had meant three such forced 
marches as an active man would make. Naturally 
enough he had not taken into consideration the fact 
that men who are worn with hardship cannot march 
at the same rate as a single man well fitted for such 
an ordeal. At the end of three strenuous days there 
was no sign of water. Worse still, the most reckless 
members of the company had had no water for the 
last twenty-four hours, for on a long march it needs 
better discipline than Temple could enforce to restrain 
a rash and thirsty man from drinking the water he 
is carrying. Temple himself had had little to drink 
for forty-eight hours, for Dona Beatriz's supply had 
been stolen during the night that followed the first 
days' march through the desert, and he had given 
her more of his store than he had drunk himself. 

Throughout these three days the company 
marched in single file instead of widely extended in 
search of food and water as it had marched before 
reaching the last Kaffir tribe. Food they did not 
need, for they had amply sufficient for the moment, 
and the appearance of the country confirmed the 
guide's assertion that no water would be found until 
the hills were passed. In the lead marched the pilot, 
his fellow prisoners and the men who guarded them, 
followed by the rest of the company in what order 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 197 

they pleased. The rear was brought up by Temple, 
who marched behind in order to encourage stragglers 
and to regulate the pace of the column by the needs 
of its weakest members. 

On the fourth day the company began to straggle. 
Those in the lead, in their anxiety to relieve the 
agonies of thirst, pushed on rapidly till they were 
so far ahead that Temple could no longer control 
their movements from the rear. The men in charge 
of the prisoners, their fears of the Englishman over- 
come by their own sufferings, left the latter to their 
own devices and pushed on independently, careless 
whether they accompanied them or not. The pris- 
oners, equally anxious to get to the water, followed 
the example of their guards and hurried forward, 
so they, their guards, and the rest of the company 
became intermingled, passing and repassing each 
other in the race for water, and by noon a mile or 
more separated the man who was furthest ahead and 
him who lagged furthest behind. 

Fortunately for those in the rear, they could find 
their way without the help of the pilot. The greater 
part of Africa from the Soudan to the Cape, is 
covered with a vast network of narrow paths trodden 
hard and distinct by thousands upon thousands of 
naked feet. In the habitable parts these paths cannot 
be used by strangers who have no guide, for every 
mile or so other paths lead out of them or cross 
them, but in very dry country a single unmistakable 
path stretches from one water to the next, without 
any confusing branches. The company had been 


198 JOHN TEMPLE 

shown a path by the guide who refused to accompany 
them and they had followed it throughout the three 
days without any hesitation or difficulty. 

The path on the fourth day led along the back- 
bone of a range of hills. At first as they walked 
their eyes searched the hollows on either side in 
hope of seeing something — a Kaffir hut, a patch of 
green, a water-loving tree — that would give hopes 
of that which they needed so sorely. Later on their 
whole thoughts and their whole energies were con- 
centrated on reaching the pool of water of which the 
guide had told them before their strength failed. 
They were racing over an unknown course to an 
unknown goal hidden somewhere among the grey 
hills ahead. None knew how far ahead the goal lay, 
but each knew that he must reach it soon or die. 
Therefore, as runners that race for a prize, they kept 
their eyes on the path ahead of them and hurried 
unceasingly on. 

Their eyeballs ached. Their temples throbbed. 
A loathsome black sticky slime formed on their 
tongues, their palates, and their lips, so that they 
were fain now and again to pluck stiff blades of 
coarse dry grass and scrape it away. Their throats 
were inflamed. Fever coursed like fire through 
every limb. 

Occasionally for short intervals their oyerstrained 
brains found a dreadful relief in temporary madness. 
Some burst into song, the words rising from their 
parched throats like the hoarse croaking of a carrion 
crow. Some talked on trivial topics with men who 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 199 

had died when the Sao Raphael went down, as if the 
dead were marching beside them. Some cried that 
they saw water on ahead and broke for a moment 
into a feeble run. But in each case the delirium 
passed quickly away, giving place to miserable sanity, 
pain and despair. 

At one place the path dipped and crossed a 
narrow gully such as runs with water during, and 
for a few hours after, heavy rain. Temple drew his 
sword and dug frantically, in wild hopes of finding 
water beneath the sandy bed. The others passed 
him by, not even turning their heads to see what he 
was doing. Senhor Ribeiro passed, tottering and 
swaying under the weight of his little son, who, 
perched on his shoulders, clung to his head and 
cried. A few paces behind, his wife stumbled on 
in the tattered tunic and breeches which she had 
worn since the wreck. She slipped on a loose stone 
in the torrent bed, fell on hands and knees, but 
without pausing a moment struggled to her feet and 
staggered forwards. Father Sebastian passed, his 
hands clasped before him, and his lips muttering 
prayers. Dona Beatriz passed. Her hair hung in 
a dirty clammy tangle on the shoulders of her boy’s 
doublet. Her beautiful eyes were dull and blood- 
shot. Her mouth gaped open. Her lips had 
cracked, and the blood, drying as it rose, had 
attracted a swarm of flies which buzzed about her 
mouth and nostrils. In single file they passed, man 
and woman, convict and cavalleiro. Some moved 
with less effort than others, but each swayed and 


200 JOHN TEMPLE 

staggered as he hurried on. Then Temple’s sword 
struck fire against the rock bottom of the shallow 
gully, and abandoning his useless task he hurried 
after the others. 

Very soon afterwards, just as the path began to 
wind downhill towards a distant plain, Senhor 
Ribeiro heard a bitter wail behind him. Turning, 
he saw his wife face downwards with arms out- 
stretched on the path. Putting down the boy, he 
strove to lift her, but she hung limp and senseless 
in his arms. Taking her head in his lap he wiped 
the foam from her mouth, kissed her, and called to 
her beseechingly, uselessly, to rouse herself and 
make another effort, but the strain had been too 
great, and the poor lady’s life was flickering away. 
He laid her tenderly down, buried his head in his 
arms, and cried. 

Till then Dona Beatriz had kept up with 
feverish energy, but the example of the dying woman 
robbed her of all the little strength she had left. 
Sinking down on the path, she sat still and stared 
with unseeing eyes at the plain below. 

Senhor Furtado and another cavalleiro overtook 
her, turned aside off the path and passed on. Dona 
Beatriz, roused to a sense of her desperate plight, 
held out her hands towards them and cried — 

“ Ah ! senhors, will you leave me to perish 
miserably in the wilderness ? Have you no compas- 
sion on a young girl, a Portuguese like yourselves ? ” 

Not many weeks before Senhor Furtado had 
sworn, Not while I have strength to lift my hand 



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THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 201 


will I see a lady of Portugal abandoned,” and his 
companion^^had echoed assent. When those valiant 
words were uttered the speakers had meant them. 
Both would then have died gladly rather than be 
false to them, but long weeks of misery had sapped 
their courage, their manliness, their nobility, just as 
semi-starvation had weakened their bodies. The 
long, grim struggle for existence had undermined 
their moral natures until in this fiercest and grimmest 
struggle for life they had no more human sympathy 
than wolves who pull down and kill a feeble member 
of their pack. 

God forgive you and bring you to your homes,” 
cried the unhappy lady as they left her behind. 

“You will not leave me ! ” she cried, hope rising 
again as Temple reached her, but the Englishman's 
strength was all but spent. His courage had all 
gone, and only the desperate instinct of a wounded 
animal that goes forward till it drops sustained him. 
He stepped aside and passed her by. One man 
after another passed her unheeding. Last of the 
file came Father Sebastian. His head was bowed. 
His gait was feeble. But he, unlike the others, 
could forget his own misery in compassion for others. 
Constant fasting, constant penance, had steeled his 
nerves to endure privation, and the lifelong habit 
of sacrificing himself for others had so developed his 
love and pity that even in this supreme crisis he 
could forget his own desperate needs. 

“ Take comfort, my daughter,” he said, seating 
himself and putting his arm tenderly round her 


202 JOHN TEMPLE 

shoulders. ‘‘ God would not permit you to suffer 
such misery on earth except to prepare you for life 
everlasting. I will stay] with you till you are 
stronger. If God wishes us to die, why then we 
shall sooner stand before His glorious throne. If 
He wishes us to live, be sure He can save us.” 

A wild cry echoed from the path below them. 
Senhor Ribeiro was standing over the prostrate body 
of his wife, wringing his hands and moaning. 
Suddenly he grasped his little son in his arms, 
and turning with a wild and ghastly laugh, raced 
down the hillside. They saw him leap from rock to 
rock, then fall and roll, his son still in his arms, 
down and down, faster and faster, till he disappeared, 
and silence fell over the dry hillside. 

The friar rose and went to cover the dead lady's 
face. 

“ See how merciful God is,” he said with a smile. 
‘‘They loved each other dearly, and in their death 
they are not divided.” 

They found water less than five miles from 
where Senhora Ribeiro had died. 

Each man as he reached the stream threw himself 
on his face and, reckless of consequences, drank till 
he gasped for breath, drank again, then staggered into 
the nearest shade to rest. Temple was the last of 
the company to reach the water. His desert training 
warning him of the danger of excess in drinking, he 
first merely washed out his mouth and took a small 
gulp of water, waited five minutes and drank again. 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 203 

Then after a longer interval he took a deep satisfy- 
ing draught and sprang to his feet. 

“ Come, men,'’ he said, “ we must bring on those 
poor ladies before our muscles stiffen. Who will 
come back with me ? ” 

Not a man stirred. Most of them were writhing 
with the pains induced by inordinate drinking after 
excessive thirst. 

“ If no one will volunteer, I must pick my man,” 
continued Temple, looking round the company to 
see who had best come through the ordeal. His 
eye fell on Black Jorge, the gunner, whose strain of 
African blood had helped to sustain him through 
the hardships of the march. ‘‘Jorge, draw water 
and come with me.” 

The mulatto limped to the stream with a 
muttered oath, and filled his gourd. 

‘‘ Senhor Furtado, you will camp here,” con- 
tinued the Englishman. “I doubt if we shall be 
able to rejoin you to-night. We will rest to-morrow, 
and march again the next day.” 

The next day’s sun had risen some hours before 
Temple and Jorge returned to the pool with Dona 
Beatriz and the priest, for the former could walk but 
slowly, and was obliged to rest frequently on the 
way. They had delayed, too, to cover the body 
of Senhora Ribeiro with heavy stones. The bodies 
of her husband and little son had to be left to the 
vultures, for, after a long search, they saw them 
lying in an inaccessible position far down the 
hill. 


204 JOHN TEMPLE 

As they neared the stream, Black Jorge, who 
was in the lead, turned to Temple and said — 

“ They have gone on, senhor. I see no one at 
the camp/' 

May the curse of God fall on them if they 
have," cried the Englishman, bitterly. ‘‘ Hurry on, 
man, and see. No, stay with me. You may take 
it into your head to turn traitor next." 

A few yards farther on they saw Senhor Furtado 
coming towards them. 

What has happened, in Heaven's name ? " 
shouted Temple. Have you been attacked ? " 

“ They would not wait, senhor. They said that 
the ship the guide told us of might sail without us 
if they did not hurry on." 

‘‘ And you let them go ? Curse you for a 
cowardly hound ! " 

‘‘We tried to stop them." 

“ Who do you mean by ‘ we ' ? " 

“ Senhor Dias, Senhor de Paz, Senhor da Cunha, 
and I. Dom Vicente stabbed Senhor da Cunha with 
his knife when he tried to hold him back. We 
went to plug his wound, but he died in a few 
moments, and when we looked again they had 
gone." 

“ Then all have gone but you three ? " 

“We three and the Arab. He did not go. 
They are waiting in the shade yonder." 

Temple sat down by the side of the stream, and 
for half an hour spoke no more. Then he rose and 
said — 


THROUGH GREAT TRIBULATION 205 

“ I could have done no more than you did. 
Forgive me, senhor. Come. We must march.” 

They followed the continuation of the path that 
had led them to the stream. Five days later, led by 
a native guide whom they had hired with the least 
valuable of the knives belonging to the party, they 
reached the village of Inyaka, the chief of whom 
they had been told. 

Inyaka could hardly have greeted the King of 
Portugal with more barbaric ceremony. Warned 
of their approach while they were still a day's 
march away (he is a clever man who can approach 
the village of an African chief unheralded), he sent 
to meet them a bodyguard under one of his head- 
men, who could speak a few words of broken 
Portuguese and imagined himself master of the 
whole language. The bodyguard lifted the weary 
men, and Dona Beatriz too, shoulder high, and 
chanting an endless song carried them forward at 
a rate of five good miles an hour. At the royal 
village itself a hundred headmen stood in a half- 
circle to greet the wanderers. Old men spread 
mats for them to sit on, women offered them huge 
earthenware pots that contained more native beer 
than they could have drunk in a week. Inyaka 
himself met them at the gate of the royal enclosure, 
clapping his hands and shouting a lengthy welcome 
that came to an end only when he was obliged to 
pause for breath. 

As soon as he could make himself heard above 
the hubbub. Temple told the Arab to ask the 


2o6 JOHN TEMPLE 

whereabouts of the Portuguese ship which they 
had been told was anchored near the village. For 
answer Inyaka led them to the summit of a low 
hill and pointed eastwards. Below them stretched 
the wide estuary known then as Santo Espirito, but 
now called Delagoa Bay, and a mile beyond the shore 
lay the ship. While they stood looking the clanking 
sound of a slowly hoisted cable came, faintly across 
the water. Before they understood what caused the 
noise a huge mainsail, blazoned with the arms of 
Portugal, spread to the wind. Another sail was 
spread, and another. The ship began to move, 
gathered way, and, turning, headed seaward. 


CHAPTER XIII 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 

Sebastian, the boy King of Portugal, who under 
the influence of priestly tutors, conceived the pro- 
ject of waging war on Monomatapa was, of all the 
great European sovereigns of his day, the one 
least likely successfully to carry through so great 
and difficult an enterprise. The boy was a royal 
Don Quixote. He had all the gallantry, all the 
enthusiasm, all the sterling sincerity of Cervantes' 
immortal dreamer and as little sense as he of the 
realities of life. 

'The project of sending an army into the interior 
of Africa and conquering a savage king who was 
reputed to reign over the greater part of that con- 
tinent south of the equator, and to rank among 
African potentates second only to the mysterious 
Prester John, appealed to the boy's religious 
enthusiasm, because, in the first place, by so doing 
he would avenge the death of Dom Gonzalo, the 
missionary martyr whom Monomatapa had mur- 
dered ; in the second place, because by making 
Monomatapa's realms Christian, and uniting them 
to the Christian kingdom of Prester John, he would 

207 


2o8 JOHN TEMPLE 

establish the power of the Catholic Church through- 
out the greater part of Africa ; in the third place, 
because the wealth of Monomatapa’s gold mines 
was reputed to be so enormous that it would suffice 
to pay the cost of subduing the whole of Asia. In 
short, if the Monomatapa were conquered it would 
become possible, so King Sebastian thought, to 
establish Portuguese dominion in fact as well as in 
theory over all lands from the Cape of Good Hope 
to the easternmost islands of Japan, and in so doing 
bring half the world within the fold of the Church 
of Christ. 

The idea was just such an one as would suggest 
itself to the mind of an imaginative child, and like 
a child Sebastian did little more than command that 
the attempt should be made before turning his 
attention, once more, to what he conceived to be his 
life’s work — the rousing of Christendom to destroy 
the Khalif and all followers of the false prophet. 

In Lisbon there was no lack of men eager to 
join the expedition, for though few of his subjects 
had King Sebastian’s enthusiasm for holy wars, none 
were indifferent to the prospect of fingering Mono- 
matapa’s gold. Noblemen were appointed to posts 
in the expedition whose sole claim to consideration 
was possession of wealth and influence. The rank 
and file were ruffians whose only qualification was 
that those charged with keeping the king’s peace 
were anxious to be rid of them. 

Before leaving the organization of the expedition 
to others. King Sebastian did one wise and one very 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 209 

unwise thing. He gave the command to Francisco 
Barreto, a man of not very high rank, but as capable, 
as honest and as loyal a soldier as ever drew sword. 
Having chosen as commander the most efficient 
man in his dominions. King Sebastian then pro- 
ceeded to tie his hands by appointing a council of 
twenty priests to sail with the expedition, and com- 
manded Barreto to do nothing without their consent. 
One of these priests was Father Monclaros, a Jesuit, 
who had been one of the king’s own tutors, and it 
would have been well for the expedition if Barreto 
had found some excuse for hanging this man at his 
masthead while still on his way to the Cape. 

The Viceroy of India was commanded to supply 
the expedition with horses, camels, stores, and 
ammunition, but, as we have already seen, the 
order was easier to issue than to carry out. When 
Barreto reached Mozambique, instead of finding 
three ship-loads of stores awaiting him he found 
only a letter from the Viceroy announcing the 
departure of the Sao Raphael^ and of the Sao Raphael 
there was no trace. 

Barreto, however, was not the man to remain 
idle and wait for better luck. After landing all the 
men he did not need for the moment, including the 
members of the council (whom he could well spare), 
he paid a flying visit to all the Arab settlements 
along the east coast, by virtue of his office as 
Captain-General and Conqueror of the kingdoms 
lying between Capo das Correntes and that of 
Guardafui,” buying at his own price what he needed 


210 JOHN TEMPLE 

from those who would sell, and taking by force from 
those who would not. 

On his return to Mozambique, Barreto found 
that most of the members of his council, disliking 
the heat, the flies, and the poor food they had found 
there, were already heartily sick of Africa, and filled 
with a project to sail to India for the purpose of 
relieving Chaul, which was still besieged. While 
this matter was being debated, however, a ship 
arrived from Portugal with more men, and another 
from India, which Dom Luiz had dispatched some 
three months after the sailing of the Sao Raphael^ 
carrying the stores, horses, and ammunition which 
Barreto needed, and a number of new members 
for the council whom he would gladly have done 
without. The latter, not as yet having had their 
enthusiasm for the African expedition damped, 
outvoted the others, and preparations for a march 
inland were begun. 

Two ports were suggested as a base of opera- 
tions — Sofala and Quelimane ; the latter - because 
it lay at the mouth of the Zambesi, up which 
river the expedition might sail in small boats ; the 
former because it was the nearest port to Mono- 
matapa’s kingdom. Most members of the council 
wished to start from Sofala, but Monclaros, for 
various reasons which he revealed to his colleagues 
and others which he kept to himself, wished it to 
start from Quelimane. 

Matters had reached this point when a small 
Portuguese vessel that had been trading along the 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 21 1 

coast returned to Mozambique, having on board 
Dom Vicente, five other cavalleiros, the pilot of the 
Sao Raphael^ three seamen, and sixteen convicts, who 
declared themselves to be the sole survivors of the 
ill-fated ship which should have carried stores for 
Barreto. After these men had performed the 
religious exercises expected of men who have had 
a miraculous escape from death, Monclaros sought 
an early opportunity of winning their leader over 
to his side, hoping that he would be able to give 
reasons, derived from his supposed knowledge of 
the country, which should dissuade the council 
from adopting the Sofala route. The fact that Dom 
Vicente, having been picked up at a point many 
leagues to the south of Sofala, knew nothing what- 
ever of the country at the back of that port, was a 
detail that might be trusted to escape the notice of 
the learned theologians who complicated Barreto's 
plans. 

The Jesuit found Dom Vicente to be a most 
satisfactorily earnest ally. The latter did not in 
the least wish to undergo the hardships of a cam- 
paign. On the other hand, he very earnestly wished 
to be established as Captain of Sena, a post which 
he claimed by representing himself to be the 
husband of Dona Beatriz, who he declared had 
succumbed to the hardships of the overland march. 
As the fort of Sena was situated on the Zambesi 
River, the expedition would pass it if the Quelimane 
route were adopted, and Barreto would have an 
opportunity of establishing Dom Vicente there. 


212 JOHN TEMPLE 

If the Sofala route were adopted, however, he would 
have to wait indefinitely for the post and would 
certainly be expected to join the expedition in the 
meanwhile. 

Now, Dom Vicente and the Jesuit were both 
men of the world, and each quickly realized that 
the other had reasons which he did not disclose 
for wishing Barreto to follow the Zambesi route. 
Recognizing each other as kindred spirits, it was not 
long before they were plotting together, with a show 
of frankness, to gain their own ends. The priest 
had made overtures by saying that in advocating 
the Zambesi route he was influenced by the hope 
of passing the spot at which Dom Gonzalo was 
murdered and of securing that martyr's bones as 
a priceless possession for the cathedral church in 
Goa. He now admitted that he was even more 
concerned by the hope of advancing his Order, to 
the detriment of the Dominicans. King Sebastian, 
in hopes of preventing quarrels between the rival 
Orders, had assigned the territory around Sofala as 
a field of labour to the Dominicans and that between 
Quelimane and Mozambique to the Jesuits. If 
Sofala became the port for the wealth of the Mono- 
matapa, explained Monclaros, the Dominicans would 
profit ; whereas if Quelimane was made the port, 
the Jesuits at Mozambique would have the handling 
of the Monomatapa's gold. Dom Vicente repaid 
this confidence by admitting his desire to get himself 
established as Captain of Sena. The Jesuit promised 
to endorse the fidalgo's claims to the office, and it 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 213 

was agreed that Dom Vicente should declare the 
country behind Sofala to be dry and barren and 
utterly unfit for the passage of a large expedition. 

Now, Dom Vicente had another reason, which he 
did not reveal to the Jesuit, for not wishing Barreto to 
use Sofala as his base. Though he hoped that Dona 
Beatriz was dead, it was possible that she was still 
alive. If this were the case, it was probable that she 
would sooner or later arrive at Sofala. If she arrived 
there after Barreto had gone up country, leaving 
Dom Vicente to handle the revenues at Sena, it 
would matter little ; he would make a comfortable 
fortune before being turned out of the post. It 
was possible, however, that she might reach Sofala 
before the expedition had left that port, if it went 
by that route, in which case he would have to 
abandon all hopes of securing the lucrative post 
which he had crossed the Indian Ocean to obtain. 

Father Monclaros, too, had a reason which he 
did not disclose for promising to advance Dom 
Vicente’s interest. Accustomed to read men’s 
faces as a sailor reads the sky, he knew before he 
had talked with him an hour that the cavalleiro was 
haunted by a fear that he had not disclosed. What 
it was he did not ask, being confident that it would 
sooner or later be revealed in the confessional either 
by Dom Vicente himself, or by one of those who 
had survived the march from Natal. Now, in 
capable hands, a man who has a guilty conscience is 
an amenable tool, and as a tool in a high position is 
more valuable than a tool in a low one, Monclaros 


214 JOHN TEMPLE 

determined to advance Dom Vicente's interest to his 
utmost, and at the same time to use the man for his 
own ends. 

• Soon after their first meeting the priest suggested 
to Dom Vicente the possibility that one day he might 
advance from the post of Captain of Sena to that of 
Governor of East Africa. 

‘‘ You mean if any misfortune should happen to 
Senhor Barreto while on the campaign ? ” asked the 
fidalgo. 

“ Or if his Majesty, whom may God guard, 
should see fit to recall him,” replied the priest. 

Come with me to the house of Senhor Brandao, 
and we will discuss the chances of such an 
event.” 

Antonio Pereira Brandao belonged to the type 
of official to whom, more than to any other cause, 
the downfall of Portugal's power in Asia and Africa 
is to be attributed. He had been Governor of the 
Moluccas, and while in that post had had neither the 
sense to be moderate in peculation, nor the craft to 
avoid detection. Dom Luiz d'Ataide, the Viceroy 
at Goa, had arrested him for fraud and sent him to 
Lisbon to stand his trial. The Court at Lisbon had 
confiscated all his property and condemned him to 
serve for life as a common soldier in the African 
expedition, but Barreto had taken pity on the man, 
partly on account of his age (he was already a very 
old man), partly because he had a daughter de- 
pendent on him, and, knowing that he was no worse 
than many highly-placed officials whose dishonesty 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 215 

had not been exposed, had remitted the sentence 
and appointed him to be Captain of Mozambique. 

Brandao had not personally met Dom Vicente 
before Father Monclaros brought him to his house, 
and therefore before passing on to other topics he 
entreated the cavalleiro to relate the sad story of his 
misfortunes. Dom Vicente told his tale with a 
skill that frequent repetition had made perfect ; 
how he had met the lovely and accomplished Dona 
Beatriz for the first time on board the Sao Raphael^ 
how they had fallen madly in love with each other 
at first sight, how the good Father Sebastian, taking 
pity on lovers' sighs, had consented to marry them 
during the voyage, how when the ship was wrecked 
he had swum ashore supporting the fainting body of 
his bride ; how, during the terrible march overland 
he had worn himself out to find food for her, and 
defended her at the risk of his life from the attacks 
of wild beasts, and how, finally, in spite of all he 
could do for her, she had succumbed to the hard- 
ships of the march and expired in his arms. ‘‘ Ah ! 
how dearly I loved her ! " cried Dom Vicente, as an 
appropriate conclusion to his story, burying his face 
in his hands to hide his lack of emotion from his 
companions. 

They comforted him with sympathetic mur- 
murs, and pressed him to drink a glass of some 
wine that Brandao had filched from an eastward- 
bound cargo. Then Monclaros began to outline 
the relative merits of the Sofala and the Quelimane 
routes, for the purposes of the expedition against 


2i6 JOHN TEMPLE 

Monomatapa. He pointed out that the fact that 
though Portuguese in small parties had reached 
the court of that monarch from Sofala, this was no 
proof that an army could follow in their footsteps. 
A few men travelling together could find all the 
water they needed in pools, springs, and native 
wells, whereas an army travelling with many bag- 
gage animals was forced to keep within reasonable 
distance of perennial streams. By the Sofala route 
Barreto’s army might be compelled to turn back 
within the first week’s march for lack of water. 
The Zambesi River, on the other hand, if the Queli- 
mane route were adopted, not only simplified the 
problem of transport, but ensured that the army 
would have an ample supply of water for at least 
three-quarters of the distance from the coast. 

“ That is how I regard the matter as a humble 
student of military difficulties,” said the Jesuit. “ I 
will now show how it affects you gentlemen as 
captains respectively of Sena and Mozambique. 
Whichever route is adopted will eventually become 
the commercial highway between Monomatapa’s 
country and the sea. If that highway be by way of 
Sofala, Sena and Mozambique will remain compara- 
tively unimportant fortresses. If that highway is 
by way of the Zambesi River, all exports will pass 
Sena, and be transshipped into homeward-bound 
vessels at Mozambique. In other words, you two 
gentlemen would have the handling of Monoma- 
tapa’s gold, and perhaps ” — the priest treated his 
audience to a very unclerical wink — “some of it 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 217 

might stick to your fingers. Have I said enough, 
Senhor Brandao ? Dom Vicente is already con- 
vinced that the Quelimane route would be best. 
Can I count on your support in advocating it to the 
council ? 

Most assuredly,” answered the Captain of 
Mozambique. 

“ Then I will put another matter before you,” 
continued Monclaros, drawing his chair nearer to 
the table and lowering his voice. “ Listen ! I 
have no faith in the success of this expedition. It 
will cost far more in money and lives than it is 
worth. We Portuguese are masters of the sea, but 
we have little success on land. Where in the whole 
of Africa and Asia have we been able to advance 
beyond the coast ? Remember the fate of the expe- 
dition into Abyssinia, of which but five men returned 
alive. Even on the coast we can hold our own 
only with the help of our fleet. We are constantly 
besieged at Chaul, at Calicut — even at Goa itself. 
How can we hope, not only to send a successful 
army many weeks' journey into an unknown land, 
but to maintain it when it is there ? We should 
need one army of occupation, and another to pre- 
serve communication between that army and the 
sea. Those two armies would cost more than even 
Monomatapa's mines could pay.” 

Dom Vicente and Senhor Brandao looked 
glum. 

‘^Then how do you propose to get Monoma- 
tapa’s gold ? ” asked the latter. 


2i8 JOHN TEMPLE 

By honest trade,” replied Monclaros. “ As a 
man of God, I hate war. As a man of sense, I 
know it to be foolish. The Kaffirs have no idea 
of the value of gold. If we teach them to 
desire cloth and wine, and^ such things as we can 
sell them, we shall get the gold with less trouble 
and with less cost than by sending an army to 
take it.” 

“ Then do you propose that the expedition 
should be abandoned ? ” inquired Dom Vicente. 

“ I would if I thought my voice would be 
heard. Matters have gone so far, however, that 
nothing I could say would prevent them going 
further. But this I desire for the sake of my 
gallant but thick-headed countrymen. Since the 
expedition is doomed to failure, the nearer the coast 
it fails the better. If it fails far inland, as the Abys- 
synian expedition failed, not only will the lives of 
many gallant men be sacrificed, but our arms and 
cannon will fall into the hands of the savages, to be 
used against us.” Monclaros leant over towards 
Brandao, and almost whispered in his ear, “ Let it 
be your business to see that the expedition fails 
before it has reached a point from which it cannot 
retreat.” 

“ How ? ” gasped Brandao. 

“ By withholding supplies,” answered the priest. 
‘‘You are to be charged with the duty of forward- 
ing such supplies as reach Mozambique after 
Barreto has started. Keep them back, and the 
expedition cannot advance beyond recall.” 


DOM VICENTE TELLS HIS TALE 219 

“ Senhor Barreto will ruin me ! ’’ 

“ He cannot if you get the king s ear first. 
Denounce him for peculation. The accounts will 
be in your hands while the expedition is inland, and 

you can easily make it appear No; the king 

will not believe that. He knows that Senhor Bar- 
reto has spent his whole private fortune in arms for 
the troops. I have it ! Say that he designs to use 
the armament to make himself king of Monoma- 
tapa's country. His having bought arms with his 
own money will support the tale.** 

Brandao hesitated. He was an accomplished 
scoundrel, but never in all the eighty years of his 
evil life had he sunk to such depths of villainy as 
the priest proposed. 

“ I owe my life to Senhor Barreto,** he 
muttered. 

‘‘ What do you owe to your own flesh and 
blood?** urged Monclaros. “You have it in your 
power to leave your daughter such a dowry as 
might tempt a prince of the royal house to seek her 
in marriage — or you may leave her to poverty. 
Enough ! Take pen and parchment and write as I 
shall dictate.** 

Brandao seated himself at the table, and wrote 
with trembling hands to the priest*s dictation, Dom 
Vicente helping with occasional suggestions. If he 
had cherished vague ideas of saving himself and 
what was left of his honour by destroying the letter 
privately after the priest had gone, his plan was 
frustrated, for as soon as the letter was signed 


220 JOHN TEMPLE 

Father Monclaros took it in his own hands, scat- 
tered sand over it, folded it, and put it in his 
wallet. 

“ I will see that it reaches the king's hands," 
he said. 


CHAPTER XIV 


IN WHICH THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 

The value of the captaincy of Sena was rather 
potential than actual at the time when Dom Vicente 
was intriguing to obtain it. The town consisted of 
forty stone houses and a large number of huts. 
The former belonged to wealthy half-bred Arab 
merchants, descendants of men who had settled 
there a hundred years or more before Vasco da 
Gama doubled the Cape of Storms. These men 
acknowledged allegiance to a sheikh, who in turn 
paid homage and occasional tribute to the distant 
potentate Monomatapa ; ten wattle and daub 
shanties sheltered Portuguese merchants who obeyed 
no laws except those dictated by their own some- 
what callous consciences and the fear of their 
powerful neighbors. And some thousand native 
huts were inhabited by slaves of the Arabs and 
some other Kaffirs who, having left their own tribes 
in consequence of various offences against tribal 
law, had elected to live under the protection of men 
who were too powerful for their chiefs to harry. 
Some hundred other Arabs made their headquarters 
in the village, though these were often absent on 
221 


222 JOHN TEMPLE 

trading expeditions in the interior. The captaincy 
of Sena might nevertheless have become exceedingly 
profitable in experienced hands. A large amount 
of gold was in circulation in the settlement, and any 
Portuguese who knew his business, and had a fort 
to protect him and a hundred soldiers to enforce 
his authority could, by levying octroi and other 
duties, and house and land taxes, by exacting fines, 
and by selling justice, in a comparatively short time 
have laid the basis of a comfortable fortune. 

Mopango, the old sheikh, having amassed wealth 
by making a score or so of long, difficult and 
dangerous trading expeditions into the interior, had 
retired from active business, and used his money 
to finance at exorbitant interest younger and less 
wealthy traders. One of these, a man named 
Manhoesa, whose claim to be regarded as an Arab 
was based on descent from a pure-bred great-grand- 
father and a vague belief in the Prophet, had set out 
from Sena some months before Barreto’s expedition, 
had travelled northwards to Lake Nyassa, then in a 
south-westerly direction to what is now known as 
Mashonaland. From there, having exchanged his 
weighty merchandise for gold, and sold the slaves 
he no longer needed, he had continued in a south- 
easterly direction in search of a profitable market 
for his next trip. Chance had led him towards the 
coast, and when he was on the point of turning back 
towards Sena a rumour reached him that a neigh- 
bouring chief was the proud possessor of some 
Portuguese slaves. Partly out of curiosity and 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 223 

partly with the hope of finding that they were worth 
ransoming, he had decided to verify the rumour, 
with the result that he walked into Inyaka's village 
five months after the day on which Temple and his 
companions had reached it. 

It was true that those survivors of the wreck of 
the Sao Raphael whom Dom Vicente and his party 
had deserted, had sunk from the position of 
honoured guests to that of more or less valueless 
slaves. Yet Inyaka had treated them well accord- 
ing to his lights. When they had seen the Portu- 
guese vessel sail away without them he had consoled 
them by declaring that it would return next year, 
and had advised them to wait at his village until its 
return. This advice they had reluctantly decided 
to accept. Without a compass or without a guide 
their chances of reaching Sofala would have been small. 
Their store of metal had been lavishly squandered 
before they reached Inyaka’s village, and none cared 
again to return to a diet of carrion and lizards such 
as would have been theirs had they attempted to 
travel without the means of buying food. 

Inyaka found it profitable to deal with Portu- 
guese. They gave him fine cloth and beautiful 
beads in exchange for such worthless articles as gold 
dust and ivory. When they entertained him they 
gave him wine that had a far more exhilarating effect 
than the beer which his own wives made. Naturally, 
therefore, he looked forward with delight to the 
prospect of having Portuguese in the village for a 
whole year. 


224 JOHN TEMPLE 

For a week he feasted the wanderers royally. 
Then he began to have doubts as to whether they 
really were Portuguese. They had given him no 
presents. They had shown no desire to trade. 
They had no cloth nor any of the beautiful trinkets 
which his people liked to buy. To make sure how 
he stood, Inyaka one morning bluntly suggested 
that it was time that they paid for the food which 
they received. Temple endeavoured to explain the 
position, and promised ample recompense as soon 
as the Portuguese ship returned. With this Inyaka 
expressed himself satisfied, but from that day the 
food he gave to his guests deteriorated both in 
quality and quantity, until a fortnight or so later 
the supply ceased altogether. 

To do Inyaka justice it must be admitted that 
he and his people had little enough food for them- 
selves. In the part of Africa which he inhabited 
the rainy season which produces quickly ripening 
fruit is known as the season of new food. This is 
followed in definite succession by the season of 
harvest, the season of beer drinking (when most of 
the ripe grain instead of being stored is made into 
the African variety of beer, the most extravagant 
use to which it can be put), and then appropriately 
enough by the season of hunger, which continues 
until after the spring grass burning, when it is easy 
to hunt game. Temple and his companions had 
reached Inyaka’s village at the time when the season 
of hunger follows hard on the beer-drinking season, 
and they suffered in consequence. Occasionally 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 225 

hunting parties from the village killed hippopotami 
or elephants (smaller game could not be hunted 
while the grass was long), and on such occasions 
the Portuguese shared in the general plenty. At 
other times they were left to shift for themselves. 

At a time when the natural inhabitants of a 
country have insufficient food strangers who have 
neither money nor its equivalent fare hard. The 
Portuguese, after contesting with the local dogs 
the right to derive precarious sustenance from the 
village rubbish heaps, adopted the last course that 
was open to them and sold themselves in despera- 
tion as slaves, glad to carry wood and water in 
exchange for such food as their barbaric masters 
could spare them. 

At this crisis. Temple’s early training as a 
goldsmith stood him in good stead. While still 
an honoured guest he had amused himself by 
manufacturing wire out of crude copper and plaiting 
it in intricate patterns round the haft of one of 
Inyaka’s spears. This had so delighted the chief 
that when necessity drove Temple to sell himself 
he found Inyaka not only prepared to buy him, 
but prepared to grant him some important con- 
cessions. Among the conditions for which Temple 
stipulated before selling himself were that Dona 
Beatriz was to be his assistant, that each was to 
have a hut, and that neither was to be required 
to do any menial work. After a consultation with 
the other Portuguese, Temple wisely represented 
Dona Beatriz as his son, a deception easy enough 

Q 


226 JOHN TEMPLE 

to carry through, for Inyaka had never seen a white 
woman, Dona Beatriz was clothed in the same kind 
of rags as were her male companions, and long hair 
was sometimes to be found on the heads of male 
members of Inyaka's tribe, but never on those of 
the women. 

Now Sadak, the Arab, having an intimate 
knowledge of the country, could have saved him- 
self from slavery by leaving his Portuguese com- 
panions and making northwards. He had, however, 
suffered so much in his efforts to obtain the price- 
less jewel which he believed Temple to have about 
his person that he was loath to leave them while 
there was still hope of securing it. He had been 
a stowaway in the ship that carried Temple a 
prisoner from Ormuz to Goa. He had managed 
to transship into the Sao Raphael by herding un- 
obtrusively among the slaves. He had suffered so 
many indignities and hardships that he was prepared 
to suffer a few more rather than separate from the 
man to be with whom he had undergone so much. 

He was beginning however to despair of success, 
and when the Arab trader Manhoesa came to the 
village he resolved to take that worthy into partner- 
ship, for the Nour Jehan, if one-tenth as valuable 
as it was reputed to be, could raise not two, but 
a hundred such men as they above the dreams of 
avarice. 

Now the Arab trader celebrated his arrival at 
the village by giving a feast to which the Portuguese 
were invited, and Temple, having eaten his salt 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 227 

before Sadak had an opportunity of telling his 
secret, should have been by Arab custom immune 
from attack, but the trader was not Quixotic 
enough to let punctilious considerations interfere 
with business. The secret was revealed and a 
partnership arranged on the day that followed the 
feast, and that night, an hour before dawn, the 
two Arabs made their way silently to Temple’s 
quarters. These, for Temple had declared that the 
mysteries of his craft required secrecy, consisted of 
two huts, once the property of a headman who had 
been disgraced, standing by themselves within a tall 
reed fence that shut them off from the rest of the 
village. Fortunately for the Englishman, chivalry 
had prompted him to make his bed every night, not 
in the hut which he was supposed to occupy, but 
under the eaves of that occupied by Dona Beatrix, 
to shield her from any possible danger. The two 
conspirators, therefore, groped about the floor in 
the darkness until they bumped their heads together, 
without finding the man they sought. 

He is in the other hut,” whispered Sadak, 
“follow me closely;” and those were the last words 
he ever uttered, for as he stooped under the low 
door a sword swung and he fell lifeless on the 
ground. Manhoesa heard the scuffle without know- 
ing clearly what had happened, and preferring to 
fight in the open made a dart for the entrance, but 
before he could straighten himself on the far side 
of the low door a crashing blow descended on his 
head. The world danced round him in a fiery 


228 JOHN TEMPLE 

shower of stars. Then he seemed to sink slowly 
into a silent sea of impenetrable darkness. 

He recovered consciousness to find his arms 
and feet securely bound, and Temple pouring water 
on his head. Sadak's lifeless body had been hauled 
into the hut and lay, a gruesome heap, on the far 
side of the floor. 

“ I spared that dog’s life because he was useful 
to me,” said the Englishman, in the bastard Arabic 
of the Levant, although he sought my life a dozen 
times. He is of no further use, for now I know 
the native tongue as well as he himself, so I have 
killed him. I wish to see whether you may be 
useful to me before I kill you also. Whence come 

? yy 

From Sena,” muttered Manhoesa. Desiring 
time to think, he did not wish to exasperate Temple 
by sullenness. 

‘‘ Are there Portuguese there ? ” 

“ There are twenty there, and it is said more 
are coming.” 

“Good. Now I and my companions wish to go 
there, but we have no guide, nor until we get to 
Sena can we get the wherewithal to buy food on the 
road. Moreover, we have sold ourselves to men in 
this village. Redeem us. Take us with your cara- 
van to Sena, and you shall be paid a thousand 
cruzados in Portuguese money when we get there.” 

“ Listen, senhor,” replied the Arab, who had 
now had time to collect his thoughts. “It is true 
that I am now in your power, but on the beard of 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 229 

the Prophet I swear that if I die before sunrise you 
will die before noon. We Arabs travel the country 
defenceless, for armed expeditions cost more than 
the profit that can be derived from them. But we 
know each other’s movements, and if one dies we 
unite to avenge his death. Inyaka knows that if I 
were killed in his village, within three months my 
sheikh, Mopango, would come with his men and 
eat up the village, killing all the men and carrying 
the women and children into slavery. The dawn is 
near. In a few moments it will be light. There is 
no time for you to hide my dead body. Kill me if 
you like, but if you do Inyaka will send your head 
and the heads of all your companions to Mopango 
to pay the price of mine.” 

“We will then discuss the affair as between 
friendly merchants, but I will not unbind you yet,” 
replied Temple. “ Do you agree to my terms ? ” 

By this time the Arab had decided to accept the 
situation without futile struggles. Although bound 
so tightly that he could not move, his face and tone 
were as impassive as if, instead of being huddled on 
his back in a very uncomfortable and very undig- 
nified heap, he were seated at ease, discussing busi- 
ness matters with a friend. 

“ I have not enough merchandise to ransom 
your companions,” he replied ; “ but I will ransom 
you and take you with my caravan in consideration 
of your having spared my life.” 

“ And cut my throat as soon as we are out of 
earshot. Ransom all or none.” 


230 JOHN TEMPLE 

‘‘The price is too high,” answered Manhoesa. 
“ Listen and I will explain. I left Sena with one 
thousand bunches of Indian beads that I bought 
from the Portuguese for one hundred cruzados. I 
travelled northwards fifteen days' journey to a land 
where there is a great lake. There the people are 
skilled in growing and weaving cotton. I exchanged 
my beads for two thousand man-lengths of cloth, 
and with this I travelled for fifty days in the direc- 
tion in which the sun sets in summer-time. All 
this is true. I came to the land over which rules 
Monomatapa. For each man-length of cloth I 
there received a quill full of gold, worth in Sena 
two cruzados. I should therefore now have four 
thousand cruzados' worth of gold but that I have 
had to reserve a stock of cloth as presents for the 
chiefs whom I visit, and to buy food on the way 
for myself and my slaves. I have already asked 
Inyaka at what price he will allow you to be 
redeemed. He demands twenty man-lengths of 
cloth or ten bunches of beads for each of your com- 
panions, and double that quantity for yourself. I 
could therefore ransom you at a cost of one cruzado 
for each of your companions and two for yourself, 
but I have so little cloth left that it would barely 
suffice to buy food for my caravan and yourselves 
between here and Sena. Therefore, if I ransom you, 
I must pay in gold. We Arabs and the Portu- 
guese have agreed to keep Inyaka in ignorance of 
the value of gold. He would demand for your 
ransom as many quills of gold as he has demanded 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 231 

man-lengths of cloth. For you and your six com- 
panions I should have to pay one hundred and 
sixty quills of gold. There would also be blood- 
money to pay for the Arab you have killed, though, 
as he is not subject to Mopango, that would not be 
so high as if he were a Sena Arab. I expect to 
reach Sena with one thousand five hundred quills of 
gold. Mopango, who lent me the money and 
slaves with which to go on this expedition, is entitled 
to two-thirds of my profit. I shall therefore have 
only five hundred quills for myself, and I cannot, 
out of my small profit, pay one hundred and sixty 
for you and your companions.” 

I have promised to pay a thousand cruzados.” 

I have learned in Sena that a Christian’s word 
is not the word of an Arab.” 

Temple could not argue the point. Having no 
money of his own, he knew that Manhoesa’s 
chances of getting the thousand cruzados would be 
problematical. 

What do you ask, then ? ” he replied. 

Why did I come to this hut ? Give me the 
Nour Jehan, and I swear to carry you and your 
companions to Sena.” 

If I had the Nour Jehan it would be too big a 
price to pay for a few men’s liberty. Besides, in a 
few months a Portuguese ship will be here. Name 
a fair price, and I will do everything in my power 
to have you paid.” 

There is another matter,” continued Man- 
hoesa. ‘Hnyaka thinks to ally himself with the 


232 JOHN TEMPLE 

Portuguese by marrying a Portuguese wife. He 
sent to the captain of Sofala, offering a hundred 
tusks of ivory for a Portuguese woman. Whether 
the offer would have been accepted I know not ; 
but there were no women to spare. Such few Por- 
tuguese women as come to Africa are married almost 
before they set foot on shore. If I told Inyaka that 
one of his Portuguese slaves is a woman — you see 
that Sadak told me all there is to know about you 
all — she would be grinding corn over there before 
the sun went down. Would that please you ? '' 

The Arab pointed towards the enclosure reserved 
for Inyaka’s household, in which those of his dozen 
wives who were of too high rank to work in the 
field gossiped and quarrelled from dawn to dusk. 

“ What of that ? ” answered the Englishman. 

The woman is nothing to me.” 

At the moment that he uttered the words Temple 
knew that he lied. He knew that the woman, 
whose sex and delicacy had hitherto constituted 
her sole claim to his care, was all the world and 
more to him. The new-born knowledge flushed 
his cheek and set his heart thumping against his 
ribs. The Arab read his face in the growing light, 
smiled, and said nothing. 

Temple turned and sat staring through the hut 
door, past the gate of the reed enclosure. The 
village was awaking and setting about the work of 
the day. The huts stood black against the gold of 
the eastern sky. In five minutes or less the sun 
would be up. Long lines of women, carrying huge 



He knew that the woman . . . was all the world . . . 


to him.” 




N 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 233 

waterpots on their heads, were gossiping shrilly as 
they filed down the narrow path that led to the river. 
Senhor Furtado and the other Portuguese came out 
of a ruined hut that had been assigned to them, 
munching lumps of stilf millet porridge that they 
had saved from their evening meal, and hurried off 
to their master's fields. Father Sebastian, who had 
been reading his office in a quiet corner, pocketed 
his breviary, picked up a hoe and followed them. 
Boys opened the goat pens and drove their charges 
out to graze. Men emerged one by one from their 
huts, yawned, stretched, betook themselves to the 
part of the village where the sun would first strike, 
and prepared in leisurely fashion to occupy them- 
selves with mending nets or such light work as suits 
the dignity of an African husband. The familiar 
scene passed before Temple's eyes unheeded. His 
heart was filled with a new, somewhat bitter, but 
wholly beautiful emotion. The pain, the hardship, 
the misery of the past year seemed merely a com- 
monplace setting to the unmarked birth and growth 
of his love — that love that had not declared itself 
to him till it was master of his whole being. 

Some men go to seek love. To others it comes 
uncalled. Since the moment when first Temple 
had set eyes on Dona Beatriz his conscious thoughts 
had been fixed on but one matter — how to regain 
his liberty, win his way back to England and enjoy 
the reward for which he had suffered so much. His 
first act of charity towards the girl had cost him 
nothing. His care for her on the terrible march 


234 


JOHN TEMPLE 


overland had been prompted by the natural chivalry 
of an English gentleman, but it is possible that he 
would not have shown her this care if it had not 
been that, if anything, it might tend to help rather 
than to hinder his plans. Caring for her had 
become a habit, and the habit had grown insensibly 
into love. 

In the love of all men there are elements that 
make it akin to the love felt by the lower animals. 
One of these, the fierce desire of the male to protect 
its mate, exists but is seldom felt in the love of 
those whose lives are set in easy places ; but the 
habit of caring for Dona Beatriz, and pity for the 
hardship she suffered, had developed this instinct to 
the full. Indeed, it was the feeling of hot rage at 
the thought of the misery Dona Beatriz would suffer 
were she forced into the arms of the Inyaka that 
had first revealed his love to him. Of the mating 
instinct, that other element which all animals feel, 
the Englishman was unconscious. The lower 
animals seldom mate in captivity, and men do not 
mate, or think of mating, under circumstances in 
which a hand-to-hand fight for bare existence occupies 
every thought and energy. 

Ever since his capture at Ormuz, Temple’s 
plans for the regaining of his liberty had mingled 
with dreams of the use to which he should put it. 
He had pictured himself appearing at Queen Eliza- 
beth’s court with the Nour Jehan in his hand, 
showing the jewel to the gallant gentlemen ad- 
venturers who thronged that court, and persuading 


THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS 235 

them and their Royal mistress — the persuasion 
would not be difficult with such a bait to dangle — 
to fit out an expedition, organized by merchant 
princes, such men as Sir Edward Osborne and Sir 
Francis Walsingham, manned by Devon sea-dogs 
and led by such men as Grenville, Drake, and 
Hawkins, with which to harry the Portuguese in 
India till the phantom sceptre of Eastern dominion 
dropped from their grasp. The dream came back 
to Temple as he stared out of the hut door, and 
he smiled as he thought of the littleness of the 
dream compared with the great reality that had 
come into his life. Of what worth was the Nour 
Jehan or the wealth and power it might bring him 
compared with the frail girl who had entangled 
herself in his heart-strings ? 

With the first ray of sun. Dona Beatriz emerged 
from the neighbouring hut and began to arrange 
Temple's tools for the day's work. The English- 
man watched her as she passed to and fro. Her 
face, sallow and marked with the effects of pain, had 
lost its beauty. An ahgry sore, the result of poor 
and insufficient food, disfigured her forehead. 
Suddenly she saw Temple and smiled, and at once 
the poor worn face became in his eyes the most 
beautiful thing in the world. 

‘‘ Will you go for water to-day. Dona Beatriz ? " 
he said. I do not wish to leave the hut just yet." 

He watched her go, and then entered the hut. 

“ Have you decided to pay my price ? " asked 
the Arab, with a covetous grin. 


236 JOHN TEMPLE 

Temple drew a knife and hacked at the root of 
his beard, just under his chin. After a few tugs he 
pulled away a lump of black beeswax. He cut open 
the lump and revealed the jewel for which he had 
risked his life and lost his liberty. It shone in the 
dim light of the hut like a ball of dancing fire. 

“ How do I know that you will do your share ? 
he asked. 

“ Look for a chain round my neck,*’ answered 
Manhoesa. Do you see a little metal case ? It 
contains dust from the Holy Stone at Mecca. Hold 
it before my eyes, and I will swear on that.’* 

The oath was sworn. Temple cut the ropes 
which bound Manhoesa’s hands and feet. The Arab 
stretched his cramped limbs, pocketed the Nour 
Jehan, and rose. 

“ Tell your companions to be ready to march 
to-morrow,” he said as he left the hut. 


CHAPTER XV 

JOHN TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN IN THE 
PORTUGUESE ARMY 

The knowledge that Senhor Brandao had of the 
Zambesi River and that which Dom Vicente pre- 
tended to have of the country behind Sofala, together 
with Father Monclaros's practical representation of 
the advantage of a navigable river in the transport 
of artillery, so weighed with Barreto’s council that 
it was finally decided that the expedition against 
Monomatapa should proceed by way of Quelimane 
and the Zambesi rather than by Sofala. 

The column consisted of Barreto, five colonels, a 
few priests, three hundred Portuguese fidalgOes and 
cavalleiros, seven hundred arquebusiers, eighty 
Hindoo slaves, a thousand Kaffir camp followers, 
thirty horses, and a few camels and donkeys. It 
sailed for Quelimane on November 20, 1571, 
and three days later transshipped at that port into 
light canoes and flat-bottomed barges. The river 
being at its lowest at that season of the year, the 
Quelimane mouth was impracticable, so, skirting 
the coast of the delta for three days more, the expe- 
dition reached and entered a branch of the river 
237 


238 JOHN TEMPLE 

called Luabo, known to the Portuguese of those 
days, but subsequently forgotten for three hundred 
years till rediscovered by the immortal Livingstone. 
Thirteen days later Sena was reached, and Barreto, 
to guard his communications with the coast, decided 
before advancing farther to build a fort at that place, 
and leave in it, to guard his rear, a hundred men 
under Dom Vicente. 

Barreto was too good a soldier to attempt to 
win by force what might be gained by diplomacy. 
He determined, therefore, that while the necessary 
halt was made he would send a messenger to Mono- 
matapa, inviting him to surrender without further 
trouble. After rejecting the proffered services of a 
dozen of his most hot-headed and inexperienced 
officers as envoys, he selected a Portuguese resident 
of Sena, Miguel Bernandez, who had been at the 
potentate’s court before. This man Was instructed 
to tell Monomatapa that no harm would come to 
him if he would consent to return to Christianity, 
to expel the Arabs from his kingdom, to receive and 
support as many priests as were sent to him, and to 
cede all his gold-mines to the king of Portugal ; but 
that if he failed to comply with these demands, 
Francisco Barreto would follow hard on the heels 
of his envoy, dethrone him, and send him in chains 
to Portugal. 

While the column was waiting to receive an 
answer to this demand, and to build Dom Vicente’s 
fort, Monclaros began to work for the execution of 
a plan that formed a part of his complex scheme. 


TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN 239 

He considered it necessary that the Arabs at Sena, 
both because they were followers of the False Prophet 
and because they were serious commercial rivals of 
the Portuguese merchants, should be not merely 
subjugated, but utterly destroyed. 

Unfortunately for his hopes of winning Barreto 
to his point of view, Monclaros had to deal with the 
general single-handed, for most of the members of 
the council had elected to remain in Mozambique 
and furnish advice from their comparatively com- 
fortable quarters there. The Arabs, moreover, instead 
of resenting the arrival of the expedition, treated its 
members with every courtesy. They warned the 
Portuguese against the dangers of the climate, and 
advised them to rest during the heat of the day. 
They warned them that the water of the river was 
dangerous, and advised them to dig wells. They 
warned them that certain pastures and certain hours 
were dangerous to live stock, and recommended 
Barreto to order that his horses, camels, and donkeys 
should not be allowed to graze when dew was on the 
grass, and at other times only on the sandy dunes 
that fringed the margin of the river. 

All this advice Barreto acted on thankfully, but 
Monclaros contrived to put a sinister interpretation 
on every suggestion. He hinted that the Arabs 
condemned the climate in hopes of persuading 
Barreto to abandon the expedition, that they recom- 
mended rest during the heat of the day, in order 
to protract the work of fort-building, that they 
advised the digging of wells because, whereas it was 


240 JOHN TEMPLE 

impossible to poison the main stream of the river, 
to poison wells was a simple matter, and that they 
wished the expedition’s live stock to be restricted 
to certain areas, in order the more easily to poison 
the pasture on which they grazed. 

The Arabs had every reason to condemn the 
climate of Sena, for the whole valley of the Lower 
Zambesi is as unhealthy both for men and for un- 
acclimatised domestic animals as any part of Africa. 
It is indeed worse for the latter than for the former. 
A strong and temperate man may live at Sena for 
several months before he suffers from his first attack 
of fever, but a horse, even if he escape the horse- 
sickness which prevails almost throughout every part 
of Africa, will in a few weeks begin to pine and to 
suffer from horrible ulcers caused by the bites of 
poisonous flies. Before the expedition had been at 
Sena a week several men had sickened, and several 
of the beasts were already dead. 

It happened one day towards the end of December 
that a number of the Portuguese officers had received 
and accepted an invitation to sup that night with the 
whole of the Arab community. Monclaros, seeing 
an opportunity to press his point, hurried to Barreto 
as soon as he heard of the forthcoming banquet. 
He found the general standing on one of the un- 
finished ramparts of the fort, watching the progress 
of the work. 

“ What news ? ” asked the general moodily. He 
was beginning to tire of the priest’s interference. 

Another horse died an hour ago. That is the 


TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN 241 

tenth. Now only twenty are left. If more die your 
Excellency will have to wait here until more horses 
can be brought from India.” 

I shall do nothing of the kind,” replied Barreto 
sharply. My officers can walk as well as the 
arquebusiers.” 

The responsibility rests with you, of course,” 
answered the priest with a shrug of his shoulders. 
“ Still I venture to suggest that these frequent 
deaths should be prevented.” 

“How?” 

“You have heard that the Moors have invited 
us to a banquet. It is obvious of course, that, 
having failed to frighten us away by abusing the 
climate and poisoning our horses, they now intend 
boldly to poison us. I propose that a hundred of 
us should nevertheless attend the banquet, secretly 
armed, and that at a given signal every cavalleiro 
should rise and slay the Moor nearest to him. Thus 
would we put an end once and for all to these 
treacherous foes.” 

“ As God shall help me,” exclaimed Barreto 
furiously, “ I believe that a priest knows as little of 
honour as I know of WhaPs that?” 

A furlong lower down the river, where the Arabs’ 
houses were, a cloud of dust was rising, and the 
voices of women were lu-lu-looing in greeting to re- 
turning travellers. The noise and the dust-cloud did 
not stop, however, at the Arab settlement, but came 
right on towards the Portuguese camp. The men who 
were building the fort stopped their work to stare. 


242 JOHN TEMPLE 

Look at these men ! cried an arquebusier. 
“May I burst if there are not Portuguese among 
them. See, one is a priest, you can see his cassock, 

and a boy too He threw down a trowel 

that he had been wielding with awkward, unac- 
customed hand, and ran towards the approaching 
strangers. Others followed, and soon those who 
approached were the centre of a noisy, gesticulating 
throng. The strangers paused for a moment, then 
came straight on towards where Barreto stood, who, 
letting dignity give way to curiosity, hurried to meet 
them. 

“ Greetings, senhors,’* he said. “In Heaven^s 
name, who and what are you ? 

“I am John Temple,” said the leading man, 
“an Englishman taken prisoner by your country- 
men in Ormuz and sent in the Sao Raphael by the 
Viceroy at Goa to the conquest of Monomatapa. 
Let me present to your Excellency Dona Beatriz 
Correa da Mattos, Father Sebastian of the Rosary, 
Senhor Furtado, Senhor Dias, and Senhor de Paz. 
We and this gunner, Jorge, are the only survivors 
of the wreck of the Sao Raphaels 

“ Survivors of the Sao Raphael ! ” exclaimed 
Barreto. “ There is some riddle here. Carry my 
compliments to Dom Vicente d’ Alvarez da Saldanha, 
one of you gentlemen, and bid him be so good as 
to come here.” 

“ Let me tell the tale, your Excellency,” cried 
Furtado. “We all owe our lives to this Englishman, 
and it may be he will be too modest to tell it in full.” 


TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN 243 

Furtado gave a rapid sketch of the overland 
march from Natal, and then Dom Vicente was called 
upon to reconcile his tale with that of the new- 
comers. He lied glibly, and, considering how 
short a time he had to think, with extraordinary 
plausibility. 

Soon the general interrupted him. “ Enough 
for the present,” he said, 1 shall appoint a com- 
mission to inquire into your conduct. Meanwhile, 
give me your sword. Senhor Temple, I see you have 
a sword that I seem to recognize. You shall tell me 
later how you came by it. Senhor Furtado, take 
Dom Vicente’s sword and with it temporary com- 
mand of the garrison which 1 shall leave in Sena 
when we march. Senhor Temple, you will accom- 
pany the expedition as a member of my council, 
with the rank and pay of captain. You must sit at 
my side at the banquet to-night, and tell me more 
of your story. Till then A Deus'' 

Does it occur to your Excellency,” interrupted 
the Jesuit, that his Majesty, whom may God 
guard, may not be pleased to learn that an English 
convict is in receipt of his pay ? ” 

Having received special instructions from the 
king in person that he was to do nothing without 
consulting Monclaros, Barreto was compelled to 
treat the priest with more courtesy than he deserved. 
There were occasions, however, when he found it 
necessary to remind the Jesuit who it was that was 
in command of the expedition. 

“\Vhen I return to Portugal,” he replied with 


244 JOHN TEMPLE 

dignity, ‘‘ I shall present my lord, the king, with an 
account of the money I have spent on his behalf. 
If he considers that I have exceeded my instruc- 
tions, I will offer my own property to make good 
the deficit, and if that does not suffice, I shall say 
to him that another time he must not put a sword 
into the hands of a fool.” 

Monclaros, realizing that the moment was in- 
opportune, did not press his plan for a treacherous 
massacre of the Mohammedans, and at the banquet 
that night it might have been noticed that, despite 
his avowed suspicion of the food, he ate as heartily 
as the rest. 

The feast was held in the spacious courtyard of 
the sheikh’s house. The company sat in a wide 
half circle on mats spread on the ground, and dipped 
their hands into bowls of scented rice and dishes 
of greasy but highly savoury goats’ flesh. When 
the substantial viands had been disposed of, the slaves 
handed round “ many sweetmeats, and among other 
things, some excellent marmalade,” which latter 
seems particularly to have pleased the Portuguese, 
for Diogo de Couto, the historian of Barreto’s expe- 
dition, especially refers to it in connection with 
subsequent events. At this stage of the banquet 
the Portuguese loosened their belts and loudly called 
for the Englishman’s story. 

In those spacious days of violence and romance 
no taint of dishonour attached to piracy and robbery 
so long as it was committed on members of another 
nation. Temple, therefore, could tell his tale 


TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN 245 

quite frankly without losing credit in the estima- 
tion of his audience. The Portuguese murmured 
commiseration when he described his arrest on 
suspicion of being the possessor of the Nour Jehan, 
cheered when he told of his attempt to crack 
the skull of the Archbishop in the palace of the 
Viceroy of Goa, laughed heartily when he related 
the failure of the conspiracy to seize the Sao Raphael 
and cheered loud and long when Senhor Furtado, 
interrupting the story, told how Temple had usurped 
command of the survivors after the death of Dom 
Balthazar. At length, as the candles that lit the 
courtyard began to flicker in their sockets. Temple 
reached that part of his story in which he had to 
explain how he induced Manhoesa to redeem him 
and his companions from Inyaka and bring them to 
Sena. 

Then you had the jewel all the time,’* shouted 
Barreto. ‘‘ Do you hear, gentlemen, he outwitted 
Dom Luiz and the Archbishop and the rest of 
them, for he had the jewel after all. I wish I could 
be in Goa to see the Viceroy’s face when the tale 
reaches his ears.” 

Temple’s audience fairly rocked with laughter, 
and a dozen eager voices demanded how he had con- 
cealed the jewel. 

“ Why, I had stuck it into my beard with bees- 
wax,” he explained. “ It is an Indian trick that I 
learned in the Levant trade.” 

“ But surely scores of Indians, knowing the 
trick, must have guessed where it was hid,” de- 


246 JOHN TEMPLE 

manded one of the fidalgoes. “ How was it that 
none of them gave a hint to your captors where to 
look ? ** 

“ Why, of course every man in the Ormuz 
bazaar knew where to look for it,” Temple ex- 
plained, “ but while it remained in my possession 
there was a chance for any Indian of spirit to murder 
me and steal it, whereas had a Portuguese once got 
his hands on it the jewel would have been lost to 
India for ever.” 

The jest was greeted with renewed shouts of 
laughter, during which Monclaros stood up in his 
place, and shouted — 

Senhor Barreto, I claim that jewel in the name 
of the head of my Order. The' Great Mogul, 
from whose servants it was stolen, had meant it as a 
present for his Most Faithful Majesty the King of 
Portugal, and King Sebastian has piously dedicated 
all such presents to further the holy labours of the 
Society of Jesus. I claim the jewel on behalf of my 
Order.” 

The Jesuit’s claim passed unheeded at the 
moment, for Barreto either did not hear or did not 
heed it, and the rest of the Portuguese were crowd- 
ing round the Englishman, courteously welcoming 
him as a fellow-officer, and asking a score of questions 
about his terrible overland march. There was another 
man present who took an interest in the ownership 
of the Nour Jehan. Mopango, the Sheikh, who 
understood enough Portuguese to follow the main 
outlines of Temple’s story, took advantage of the 


TEMPLE BECOMES A CAPTAIN 247 

general laughter to slip away from his guests. 
Beckoning to three of his compatriots he led them 
aside and whispered — 

Go swiftly, find Manhoesa, and bring him 
secretly to me.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


IN WHICH THE NOUR JEHAN CHANGES HANDS FOR 
THE LAST TIME 

On the day that followed the banquet the physicians 
that accompanied the expedition were kept busy 
attending many whose appreciation of the meal set 
before them had not been controlled by that prudence 
which is advisable in those who eat rich food in 
an unhealthy climate. Monclaros, as a good priest 
should, visited each patient after the physician had 
left him, chatted with him, listened sympathetically 
to a description of his sufferings, endeavoured to 
cheer him, and before leaving him raised a question 
as to whether the marmalade the patient had eaten 
on the previous evening could possibly have been 
poisoned. Most of the sufferers recovered their 
normal health within two days, but the seed of 
suspicion sown by the Jesuit had taken root in their 
minds, and henceforth there was a steadily growing 
number of men who believed that every misfortune 
that befell the members of the column could be 
attributed to the Arabs. 

It was now the height of summer, and the 
common scourge of the deadly climate began to 
248 


THE END OF THE NOUR JEHAN 249 

be felt. There is something horribly mysterious 
in the workings of malarial fever. Its cause seems 
so difficult to discover. Its effects work with a 
sinister precision. The first Portuguese to write 
an account of what we now know to be malarial 
fever, believing that the African continent was the 
special haunt of Satan, not unnaturally attributed 
the disease to evil spirits; but the men who served 
under Barreto being unable to trace it to natural 
causes, seeing that it always attacked men at the 
same time of the day, and having had their suspicions 
roused against the Arabs, regarded it as the effect 
either of poison or of witchcraft contrived by their 
neighbours. Every afternoon two hours before 
sunset one or more men, in spite of the fierce heat, 
complained of cold, and soon afterwards were seized 
with fierce paroxysms of vomiting that continued 
at intervals throughout the night. Of those thus 
afflicted a few died on the following day, and those 
that survived were so weakened that for two days 
they could scarcely stand. It was noticed that those 
who recovered, recovered completely within five 
days, and the circumstance strengthened the latent 
suspicions of observers. 

Though sickness was rife among the men, it 
was proportionately far worse among the animals. 
Not a day passed in which a horse did not die, 
and the donkeys and camels, though they resisted 
disease longer, were obviously in bad case. One 
night Barreto was told that his favourite horse, a 
magnificent black stallion, was dying. Hurrying 


250 JOHN TEMPLE 

to the place where it was tethered he saw that the 
poor beast was suffering acutely. It was trembling 
all over. Its head hung low. Rheum streamed 
from its eyes. Occasionally it would rouse itself 
despairingly to fight the sickness, rearing, plunging 
and squealing piteously. As Barreto watched it 
after a fearful struggle it fell, struggled to its feet 
again, fell once more, dropped its handsome head 
and died. Any modern Afrikander child would 
have recognized the disease that annually destroys 
African horses by the hundred, but to the Portu- 
guese it was as horribly mysterious as the disease 
that week by week thinned their own ranks. 

‘‘Will your Excellency now refuse to believe 
that that horse has been poisoned ? ’’ asked Monclaros, 
triumphantly. “If you still doubt I can convince 
you.” He turned to two soldiers who stood by. 
“ Go to my tent and bring his Excellency’s groom, 
whom you will find there.” 

The soldiers went on their errand and returned, 
dragging between them a thin trembling Hindoo, 
who on reaching the group flung himself on the 
ground, sobbed hysterically, and grovelled at Mon- 
claros’ feet. 

“Do not torture me again. Holy Father,” he 
cried in broken Portuguese. “ Have I not said all 
you wished me to say ? ” 

“ Tell his Excellency what you did to the pasture 
and who paid you to do it.” 

The poor wretch wriggled round and squirmed 
at Barreto’s feet. 


THE END OF THE NOUR JEHAN 251 

“It is true. I poisoned the pasture every morn- 
ing before the horses went to graze/’ he whimpered. 
“ Mopango, the sheikh, paid me to do it.” 

“ When did he bribe you ^ ” demanded Barreto. 

The Hindoo groom was not prepared for this 
question, and knew not how Monclaros would wish 
him to answer it. He looked at the priest for a 
hint, but receiving none, buried his face on the 
ground again and repeated his story afresh. 

“ The man’s tale is worth nothing,” declared 
Barreto. “ If I put you to the thumbscrew, Dom 
Priest, in five minutes I would make you swear that 
the sun is black,” and turning, he strode angrily back 
to his quarters. 

Monclaros, furiously angry, went off to his own 
quarters and comforted himself by writing an ac- 
count of the event in the journal which he intended, 
if other devices failed, to send to King Sebastian, 
in order that it should accomplish the ruin of 
Francisco Barreto. 

“ The Moors wished to kill the horses with 
poison,” he wrote. “ They sent in the morning 
and put poison on the pasture and made the governor 
believe that when any died it was from the effect 
of a certain noxious herb and made the inhabitants 
believe this, and there are men in Sofala who believe 
the same error. The governor was vexed and cast 
black looks upon me when I spoke to him about it. 
He trusted the Moors because of the feigned honours 
they rendered him at his coming to Sena. The 
expedition had thirty horses. The Moors bribed a 


252 JOHN TEMPLE 

groom to give them poison in the mornings. This 
was not discovered till they had killed fifteen of the 
best, and I always asserted that it was caused by 
the poison of the Moors, but it was no use, until 
the groom being tortured confessed that ” 

A voice from outside the tent interrupted the 
priest. 

Are you there. Father? There is an Arab here 
asking justice against Mopango. Knowing the 
governor’s love for the sheikh we have brought him 
to you, thinking that you might like to question 
him.” 

Monclaros hastily put away his journal and looked 
out of the tent. 

Ah, it is you, Dom Antonio. I am glad to see 
you have recovered from the poison. You did well. 
Bring the Arab here and leave us alone together.” 

The Arab entered the tent, saluted the priest 
and seated himself on the ground. 

I remember your face,” continued the priest 
when the fidalgo had gone. Was it not you who 
rescued my countrymen from slavery in the village 
of Inyaka ? ” 

I am that man,” answered Manhoesa. “ My 
grievance is this. The stout Portuguese with the 
flame-coloured hair ” — (Manhoesa did not know 
that Temple was of a different nationality to the 
Portuguese) — “ gave me in gratitude a jewel. The 
jewel is not as valuable as rumour has said, but it 
repaid me for what I had to spend in redeeming him 
and his companions. Mopango, because he lent me 


THE END OF THE NOUR JEHAN 253 

the money and the slaves with which to trade, is 
entitled to two-thirds of my profits but to nothing 
else. He had no claim on the jewel, but he has 
taken it forcibly from me. He says that he will sell 
the jewel and give me a share of the money, but 
the jewel is mine alone. Senhor, I rescued your 
countrymen from slavery. Will you not obtain 
justice for me ? 

‘‘ I would be unworthy of my holy calling if I 
did not endeavour to obtain justice for all men, 
Christian or Mohammedan,” replied Monclaros, gra- 
ciously. ‘‘ How much more should I endeavour to 
help you to whom my countrymen owe so much 
gratitude ? It will be difficult, however, to persuade 
the general to enforce your claim. He has a strange 
love for Mopango, and indeed he relies on your 
sheikh to lend him three thousand miticals of gold 
which he needs for the payment of the troops. We 
must therefore go to work carefully. I suppose that 
for the present Mopango has hidden the jewel where 
you cannot find it ? ” 

‘‘ It is locked in an iron chest that stands in 
Mopango’s hall ; when he sleeps it is put under his 
bed,” replied Manhoesa. 

For an hour the priest asked a number of ques- 
tions that Manhoesa must have seen, had he not 
been blinded by greed and hate of his chief, had not 
the remotest connection with the Nour Jehan. The 
questions were so skilfully put, however, and had so 
little connection with each other, that in answering 
them Manhoesa did not realize that he was revealing 


254 JOHN TEMPLE 

the exact size of the Arab community, the number 
and the trustworthiness of their slaves, what arms 
they possessed, what precaution they took against 
midnight robbery. Having acquired all the infor- 
mation he desired, Monclaros dismissed the Arab, 
saying — 

If I am to help you, you must obey my in- 
structions implicitly. Have patience, return to your 
own house, say nothing on this matter to anyone. 
When the moment is propitious I will send for you, 
but remember, when I take you to- the general, you 
must say only what I shall direct you to say.” 

Three days later a messenger came running to 
Monclaros, saying that Ruy Nunes Barreto, the son 
of the general, was dying, and desired absolution. 
The priest sent a servant to bring Manhoesa to his 
tent, and then hurried to the dying man. Having 
performed his priestly function, he returned and had 
a long conversation with the Arab, which was inter- 
rupted by the news that the general's son was 
dead. 

Stay here till I send for you, then come and 
tell your tale,” he whispered to Manhoesa, then 
walked slowly to the dead man's tent. 

The bereaved father was sitting dejectedly by 
the side of his son's body. Monclaros respected 
his obvious grief for a while, but presently spoke. 

I am loath to force myself on your Excellency’s 
notice, but it is imperative for the safety of all that 
I should do so. Indisputable proof has come to my 
ears that your dear son was poisoned.” 


THE END OF THE NOUR JEHAN 255 

Barreto sprang to his feet. 

“How? Who did it? Tell me his name/* 
he cried. “ May I burst if I do not kill 
him.** 

“Ask your son*s servant if he did not drink 
yesterday some milk that the Arabs sent him ? ** 

“Is this true ? ** demanded Barreto of the 
soldier servant who was preparing the body for 
burial. 

“It is true, your Excellency. All day he ate 
nothing, but in the evening he asked for milk. 
There was none to be had in the camp, and knowing 
that the Moors have goats, I thought it no harm to 
send and beg some from them. I do not know who 
sent it.** 

“The milk was poisoned,** interrupted Mon- 
claros. “A Moor who wishes us well and hates 
such treachery confessed it to me. He is in my 
tent at this moment. Send and question him.** 

Manhoesa was brought. He said that on the 
previous day a Hindoo slave had come to the Arab*s 
houses begging milk for Ruy Nunes Barreto, that 
an Arab named Mujugane had provided it, and that 
it was known to all the Arabs that the milk was 
poisoned. Barreto might have inquired why, know- 
ing this, Manhoesa had not spoken in time to save 
his son*s life, but he was too distraught with misery 
and rage to see discrepancies in the story. He gave 
Manhoesa a gold piece and dismissed him. Then, 
without looking again on the dead, he strode to his 
own quarters, followed by the Jesuit. 


256 JOHN TEMPLE 

‘‘Pardon me, Father Monclaros, I have wronged 
you,’' he said, when he reached his tent, “ and I 
have done my king disservice in leaving these traitors 
in peace.” Then was Barreto guilty of the crime 
which sullied his long and honourable career. 
“ Send for Dom Vasco Homem. Call the colonels, 
Antonio de Mello, Thome de Sousa, Jeronymo 
d’Aguiar and Jeronymo d’Andrada. May Satan 
and all his angels seize me if I do not exterminate 
this brood of hell-hounds ! ” 

That night the whole Portuguese force was 
mustered secretly and led in five companies against 
the Arabs. Two companies patrolled the river in 
canoes lest any should escape by water. The other 
three surrounded the Arab village. At a whispered 
signal, passed from man to man, the three companies 
closed in, each man keeping close to his neighbour 
lest any fugitive should break through their ranks. 
Slowly and silently they advanced, entering one 
house after another and arresting its sleeping occu- 
pants. So well had the plan been devised and 
carried out, that without a single warning shout 
being raised, without a single blow being struck, 
every inhabitant of the village except the Arabs’ 
native slaves was driven into the great courtyard of 
Mopango’s house. Here seventeen leading mem- 
bers of the community were bound and led away 
to the Portuguese camp. The rest were murdered 
where they stood. Systematic search was then made 
of each house, and everything of value it contained 
claimed in the name of the king, after which the 


THE END OF THE NOUR JEHAN 257 

soldiers were allowed to quarrel among themselves 
over such poor booty as remained. 

What happened to the seventeen senior members 
of the Arab community we learn from Monclaros’ 
journal. The men we arrested included the Sheikh 
and also one of the traitorous Moors who had 
instigated Monomatapa to slay the holy martyr. 
Father Dom Gonzalo. All were condemned and 
put to death by strange inventions. Some were 
impaled alive ; some were tied to the tops of trees 
forcibly brought together, and then set free, by which 
means they were torn asunder ; others were opened 
up the back with hatchets ; some were killed by 
mortars, in order to strike terror into the’ natives, 
and others were delivered to the soldiers, who 
wreaked their wrath upon them with clubs. The 
booty taken from the Arab village I estimate to be 
worth 140,000 cruzados.” 

The Arabs were executed in pairs, two each day. 
While a single one remained alive Father Sebastian 
spent every waking moment with them fervently 
entreating them to save their souls by becoming 
Christian. One poor wretch named Mohammed 
Joane consented and was baptized. If he thought to 
save his life by so doing he got little satisfaction. 
The Dominican friar pleaded for his life, but was able 
only to obtain an order that he should be hanged 
instead of put to death by a strange invention,” and 
was with him at his last moment, holding a crucifix 
before his eyes. 

The Nour Jehan was not returned to Manhoesa, 


258 JOHN TEMPLE 

who indeed had no use for it, for he was one of the 
Arabs who were murdered in Mopango's courtyard. 
It was again claimed by Father Monclaros and sent 
to the Archbishop of Goa, who gave it to a church 
of Monclaros’ Order, where henceforth it blazed in 
the golden crown of Our Lady of Mercy. 


CHAPTER XVII 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 

After the massacre of the Arabs it was noticed that 
the death rate among the men and the animals 
remained as high as before. The circumstance was 
regarded as proof that the Arabs had done their 
sinister work not by poison, which acts only once, 
but by witchcraft, the effect of which may linger 
indefinitely, and in consequence Monclaros’ sub- 
ordinate priests were kept hard at work exorcising 
demons and sprinkling holy water over everything 
which might conceivably benefit by the operation. 

There was work that they might well have done 
in other directions as the weeks passed, for when the 
building of the fort was finished deadly inaction 
settled down on the camp, and the bored soldiers, 
having no work to do and no legitimate means of 
relieving the tedium of the dreary days, turned the 
camp into as lively a hell as that which some had 
known in the slums of Goa. To counteract the evil 
and to remove its cause Father Sebastian with Barreto’s 
permission set volunteers to build a church, and when 
this was done to setup crosses and altars, until Sena 
was as well supplied with these as any pilgrimage 
259 


26 o JOHN TEMPLE 

centre of Europe. In addition to this work he 
founded two confraternities; one, which he named 
“ Our Lady of the Rosary,” was to endeavour to 
suppress gambling, the other “ The Sacred Name of 
Jesus,” was directed against the sin of swearing. 
Father Sebastian much amused the general by 
indignantly refusing his offer to become patron of 
the latter order until such time as his conversation 
should be more fitting the holder of such an office. 

Despite the efforts of the priests, death and de- 
moralisation stalked through the camp. Though 
his officers urged him to advance, Barreto would not 
give the order to march until he had news that 
reinforcements and still more necessary supplies 
were following him. Messenger after messenger 
was sent to Mozambique with letters to Brandao 
asking if no more ships had arrived from Portugal 
and charging him to send immediately news of their 
arrival. Day after day Barreto stood for hours 
together on a hill that commanded a view of the 
river and watched for the return of the messengers. 

Nothing is more utterly miserable than life in a 
standing camp of a column that should be on the 
march, for in such a camp all the hardships of active 
service must be endured with none of the excite- 
ment of active warfare to relieve the tedium. The 
soldiers, both men and officers, gambled, quarrelled, 
fought, shirked even the small duties assigned to 
them, and were almost grateful when the necessity of 
burying a comrade relieved the monotony of the long 
hot days. The life was hard for all ; hard for the 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 261 

soldiers who had no employment for their idle hands, 
hard for the officers who wanted to push on, hard 
for the general who ate out his heart waiting for 
news of the long-delayed supplies, and inexpressibly 
hard for the poor girl who had been sent to the 
dreary settlement by men who considered her own 
feelings as little as they would have considered those 
of a horse or a mule. 

Barreto had done what he could for her bodily 
comfort. He had sent with all speed to Mozambique 
to provide her with a suitable wardrobe. He had 
assigned the best house in Sena to her use, courte- 
ously insisting on vacating it himself and taking up 
his quarters in a small thatched hut. There being no 
Portuguese woman in the settlement, he had directed 
that a negress who could speak Portuguese, the 
mistress of one of the Portuguese residents of 
Sena, should live with and wait upon her. The 
woman was honest and kindly according to her 
lights, but having been bred in an atmosphere of 
sensuality, and having no idea that vice could be 
loathsome to the delicate convent-bred girl, or indeed 
to any human being, she proved as repulsive a com- 
panion as the girl could well have had. 

Dona Beatriz was more utterly lonely than she 
had ever been in her life. She rose every morning 
and sat listlessly in the bare scantily-furnished hall of 
the mud-walled house, doing nothing because there 
was nothing for her to do, silent because there was 
no one but her empty-headed, ignorant, animal- 
minded attendant to talk to, welcoming the advent 


262 JOHN TEMPLE 

of meal-time because the mechanical task of eating 
such poor food as the camp afforded gave some 
relief from the inactivity of the rest of the day. 
Sometimes in the cool of the evening she walked 
through the camp and out among the sandy dunes 
that fringe the bank of the mighty river, but the 
scenery had no attraction for her ; she looked over 
the great waste of water, the dreary levels of flat 
swampy land beyond and the distant panorama of 
sunburnt hills on the horizon, and shuddered to 
think that fate had condemned her to spend her life 
amid those unlovely surroundings. 

Sometimes cavalleiros, suitors not so much for 
her hand as for the post which would be conferred 
on whoever married her, paid solemn court to 
Dona Beatriz. Their attentions might have 
pleased her under other cirumstances, but since she 
regarded them more as prospective jailers than as 
prospective husbands, their formal wooing distressed 
her and their ponderous, carefully-rehearsed compli- 
ments nauseated her. Dom Vicente was not one of 
those who presented themselves as applicants for 
Dona Beatriz’s hand and office. An inquiry had 
been made into his conduct by a board of fidalgoes, 
but as Barreto had many more important things to 
think about, and as Father Monclaros had been the 
principal member of the board, the trial had no 
result, the matter was gradually forgotten, and Dom 
Vicente was allowed to worm his way back into the 
society of honourable men. He did not, however, 
make any further attempts to claim Dona Beatriz 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 263 

and the office she had in her gift. This diffidence 
was due not to modesty or shame but to the fact 
that he no longer desired to become captain of Sena. 
The place had never been as rich as he had been led 
to suppose, and since nearly all the people from 
whom it would have been possible to extort money 
had been massacred it no longer possessed attractions 
for the man who had crossed the Indian Ocean for 
the sake of wringing a fortune from its inhabitants. 
Other fidalgoes recognized that by massacring the 
Arabs they had killed the golden-egged goose, so 
that Dona Beatriz’s suitors were drawn mostly from 
among men of lower rank, the more needy and less 
ambitious cavalleiros. They came, they paid hack- 
neyed compliments to the lady's eyebrows, they 
gave her particulars of their pedigrees, announced 
themselves as dying with longing for a kind word, 
and then, as Dona Beatriz could not contemplate the 
permanent companionship of any one of them without 
disgust, they went philosophically away, trusting 
that the saints would send them better luck in some 
other direction. 

Dona Beatriz had one constant visitor who was 
always welcome. Father Sebastian would steal half 
an hour occasionally from his many self-imposed 
duties to tell her of his ambitions and his dreams. 
The good man frankly acknowledged that he had no 
love for Sena. The native inhabitants, he explained, 
had come so much under the influence of followers 
of the False Prophet and Portuguese of the lowest 
type that Satan had obtained unassailable dominion 


264 JOHN TEMPLE 

over their hearts. He meant, therefore, as soon as 
God should show him an opportunity, to turn his 
back on Sena as Lot turned his back on Sodom, and 
go far away into the interior, among men uncon- 
taminated by European vices or Mahommedan 
blasphemies, and there find either the joy of win- 
ning souls for the Kingdom of Christ or the glory 
of a martyr’s crown. His ideals stirred Dona 
Beatriz’s imagination. The influence of the pious 
nuns who had educated her had given her a deep 
love for spiritual things, but she was too much the 
daughter of her gallant father to have any relish for 
a monotonous convent life. She beguiled many of 
her lonely hours with golden dreams, though she 
knew that her sex debarred her from making the 
dreams reality, in which she pictured herself as 
facing the dangers of the unknown interior as her 
father and her grandfather had faced the dangers of 
unknown seas, of winning a bloodless conquest over 
some heathen tribe, of tending their sick, teaching 
their children, of winning them by the force of love 
from bloodshed and violence, and so preparing a 
field for such men as Father Sebastian to work in. 

Possibly it was rather the romantic than the 
spiritual element of these idle day-dreams that 
appealed to the imagination of the conquistador’s 
daughter, but even the romantic element in it had 
no charm for her unless the picture she drew in her 
mind included one stronger than herself to bear the 
brunt of the hardship and the danger. Often when 
letting her imagination conjure up this picture she 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 265 

blushed to find that it insisted on giving her as a 
companion the man who during the past year had 
softened her hardships and shielded her from danger. 
Dona Beatriz had always known that these day- 
dreams were impracticable and foolish. When the 
image of John Temple became an increasingly large 
factor in them she felt that they were immodest and 
therefore wicked. Convinced that the devil had 
sent them, she endeavoured resolutely to drive them 
from her mind. 

Often her thoughts turned to the months she 
had spent in Inyaka's village, and she was surprised 
at finding in her heart some regret that she had ever 
been rescued. In Sena she had security, compara- 
tive comfort, and. as much food as she needed; in 
Inyaka's village she had slept on the hard floor of 
a native hut, had worn rags, had eaten such food 
as no beggar in Lisbon would have picked out of 
the gutter, and had never known what danger might 
menace her. In Sena, however, she had no com- 
panionship save that of her successive suitors and 
of a woman with whom she had nothing in common, 
whereas in Inyaka's village she had had the constant 
companionship of a stout-hearted clean-minded man 
who did not woo her at all, but who cared for her, 
protected her, and cheered her, and whom she knew 
instinctively would have given his life to save her 
from death or insult. In Sena she had nothing 
whatever to do except amuse herself, if she could 
find any way of doing so; in Inyaka’s village she 
had worked hard and constantly, and worked gladly. 


266 JOHN TEMPLE 

because the harder she worked the more could she 
lighten the load of the man to whom she owed so 
much. She had cooked Temple’s food, had accom- 
panied him to the forest when he went to gather 
firewood, and returning had carried a bundle on her 
own shoulders ; she had tended the fire with which 
he melted the metals he worked, and when there 
was hammering to be done she herself had done it, 
lest his hands should become too weary to do the 
delicate work which the Inyaka demanded of him. 

Unaccustomed by training either to feel or to 
witness the struggle for existence, in her great need 
she had accepted Temple’s protection as naturally 
and with as little thought as a child accepts the pro- 
tection of one whom it instinctively trusts. Temple 
had asked nothing in return for it, and such return 
as she had been able to make, as when she had 
plaited sandals for him, had been prompted by a 
feeling akin to a child’s instinctive desire to please 
a benefactor rather than by any sense of obligation. 
The curious partnership in which the stronger 
member had cared for the weaker without asking 
for reward, and the weaker had accepted this care 
with naive simplicity, had grown into a union in 
which the girl had felt the man to be a part of her 
life. Since their arrival at Sena this union had been 
abruptly dissolved. Temple, having no further 
excuse for being near her, had set himself to per- 
form the duties assigned to him and had seen her 
rarely, and then only by chance. As the weeks 
went by she began to realize that he had passed out 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 267 

of her life, leaving a void that no amount of comfort 
or security could fill. 

The idle months passed unmarked save by the 
slow, orderly procession of the seasons. During 
the months of January, February, and March, 
torrents of rain alternated with bursts of fiery 
sunshine. In April the landscape turned from 
green to golden, and the mighty river, feeling at 
last the influence of rain that had fallen far inland, 
began to rise. It rose slowly, irresistibly, a foot 
higher every day; first the sandbanks, then the reed- 
clad islets disappeared, then the river became full 
to the top of its banks, and great masses of matted 
vegetation as long and as broad as modern battleships 
swept majestically down the stream. In May the 
river fell again as slowly as it had risen, and the 
landscape turned from gold to grey. In June newly 
formed islands appeared, and the river, from being 
a mile-wide stream, once more split into a score of 
insignificant rivulets meandering amongst wastes of 
sand. 

One evening early in July Dona Beatriz, followed 
by her attendant, set out for her usual walk among 
the sand-dunes that fringed the river. Her way 
did not lie past the camp, but she nevertheless 
made a detour towards it, assuring herself that 
it was a desire to see Father Sebastian’s completed 
church rather than the hope of seeing Temple that 
led her thither. Not seeing the Englishman, she 
unaccountably forgot to look for the church, 
and walked on past the ruined houses of the 


268 JOHN TEMPLE 

Mohammedans, the courtyards of which were already 
breast-high with grass and weeds, until she reached 
a sandy promontory that jutted out into the river. 

Barreto was sitting there. He rose to greet her, 
and then pointed to a black spot on the gleaming 
silver of the sunlit river. 

Do you see that canoe ? ” he said. I am 
hoping it will bring me word that his Majesty’s 
ships have reached Mozambique at last, and that 
reinforcements with fresh supplies are already on 
their way here. Directly I get that news we shall 
march, for the reinforcements will be able to follow 
our footsteps faster than we, who will have to break 
a road for ourselves, can travel. If they have already 
started, they should overtake us before the end of 
August or by the beginning of September at latest. 
That reminds me. Dona Beatriz. I must make 
some arrangements on your behalf before I go. 
Do you wish to remain at Sena and make one of 
my officers happy, or will you adopt the Viceroy’s 
alternative suggestion, and seek peace in some 
nunnery in Portugal ? ” 

Dona Beatriz plucked nervously at a stiff saw- 
edged blade of yellow grass, looked ruefully at a cut 
it made on her finger, and replied — 

I do not think I want to go into a nunnery — 
yet.” 

The general seated himself by her side. It is 
very natural that you shouldn’t. I have another 
suggestion. I have a daughter in Portugal, un- 
married, living at Belem in a little house among 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 269 

vineyards overlooking the Tagus. She is not rich, 
but what is enough for one is enough for two. I 
need not say how proud she would be to do any 
service to the daughter of my old comrade, Dom 
Joao Correa da Mattos. As for money, I — that 
is — I mean that could easily be arranged. She is 
a good woman. You would learn to love her. 

There need not be any question of ’’ 

Barreto, unaccustomed to cloak charity in courtly 
phrases, floundered into silence, but Dona Beatriz, 
too much occupied with her own thoughts to realize 
that he was making her an extraordinarily generous 
offer, continued silent for some minutes. At last, 
turning away her head and blushing hotly, she 
asked — 

I understand that whoever marries me will be 
appointed Captain of Sena. Does that apply to any 
man, senhor ? ” 

“ Most certainly.” 

“ I mean, supposing — supposing he was an — ” 
her confusion was so great that she scarcely recog- 
nized her own voice — supposing he was not a 
Portuguese ” 

Barreto started, and looked at her curiously. 

I don’t understand. Who do you mean ? 
Ah ! I have it. The Englishman is the lucky 
man. Well, upon my soul, he deserves it ! ” 

He sprang to his feet, and took a few paces 
backwards and forwards. 

I forgot,” he continued. I could not spare 
him to you till after the campaign. He is the only 


270 JOHN TEMPLE 

member of my staff who can speak the native 
tongues. While we have been idling here, he has 
set himself so thoroughly to learn them that he can 
talk without an interpreter to any man who comes 
into the camp, though it be from a hundred leagues 
away. He has such a way with the natives, too, 
that he can get three times as much work from a 
gang of slaves as any one of my officers, and yet 
with never a blow struck. Do you know that the 
envoy I sent to Monomatapa was drowned on the 
way ? I had intended to send the Englishman in 
his place. The king’s service must come before all 
other considerations. Whoever else stays behind, 
he must go forward.” 

By this time Dona Beatriz was plucking furiously 
at the stiff dry grass, heedless of the fact that its 
razor edges were leaving long, bleeding scratches on 
her fingers. The general stood still, shaded his 
eyes to watch the approaching canoe, then, seating 
himself again, took one of Dona Beatriz’s hands 
in his. 

‘‘ It is hard for you both, dear lady,” he said, 
but the king’s service is paramount. Listen. If 
this Englishman acquits himself in this campaign as 
I am assured he will, I shall make it my duty to 
recommend him to the special favour of his Majesty. 
Who knows what honour he may be pleased to con- 
fer on him ? Here comes the canoe. I will stop 
it, and see what news it brings. Wait here for me.” 

He waved his hands to the paddlers, and hurried 
down to the margin of the water. The canoe turned, 


NEWS FROM MOZAMBIQUE 271 

and came towards him. A Portuguese soldier leapt 
out on to the bank, and handed him a note. Barreto 
hastily broke the seal, read the letter, and hurried 
back to Dona Beatriz. 

‘‘ At last ! The king's ships have reached Mozam- 
bique,” he cried joyfully. “If Senhor Brandao has 
carried out my orders, the reinforcements are already 
on their way. We shall march at dawn. And you, 
dear lady — you will wait here and pray for our 
success, and for the gallant Englishman. If he 
serves me but half as well as I expect, he shall have 
the best appointment in my gift when the campaign 
is over.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 

A PRAYER TO ST. ANTHONY 

As Dona Beatriz sat over her lonely meal that night 
she heard cheer upon cheer echo from the camp. 
The soldiers had been told that they were to march 
at last. 

There was scarcely a man in the column who did 
not believe that he would come back laden with as 
much gold as he could carry. The intense heat 
from which they suffered was regarded even by the 
educated Portuguese as evidence of gold in the 
country, for whereas some learned men believed that 
the fierce heat of the sun turned baser metals to 
gold, others believed that heat was caused by the 
abundance of that metal in the ground. Antonio 
Caiado, the Portuguese adventurer, who had been 
at Monomatapa’s court when Dom Gonzalo had been 
murdered, had seen a nugget worth four thousand 
cruzados brought to the king. Another had seen 
the flash of gold in the soil round the roots of a 
tree, and by digging, had obtained nuggets to the 
value of ten or twelve thousand cruzados. These 
stories had gone the round of the camp, losing 
nothing in the telling, until the soldiers believed 

272 


A PRAYER TO ST. ANTHONY 273 

that when they reached his country, even if Mono- 
matapa did not surrender his treasure houses, they 
would only have to root up the trees to obtain as 
much gold as they could take away. Little wonder 
if it was long that night before the excitement died 
down, or that the Southern Cross was sloping 
towards the western horizon before sleep brooded 
over the camp. 

Dona.Beatriz could not sleep. Her heart burned 
with a desire — and all her training told her that the 
desire was a shameful one — that one man should find 
a means of bidding her farewell before the bugles 
blew the signal to break camp. Why did he not 
come.? Did he care nothing for her? A word from 
her would bring him, she knew, but how could she 
utter that word without shame ? Earnestly she 
prayed for help to resist the temptation of sending 
for him. The younger of the nuns who had 
educated her had often told her that any appeal for 
help in affairs of the heart should be made to St. 
Anthony of Lisbon (he whom Italians called St. 
Anthony of Padua), because the affairs of lovers were 
his especial care. To him therefore she knelt and 
prayed for purity, modesty, and especially strength to 
resist the temptation that assailed her. Now it may 
be that the kindly saint was puzzled at receiving a 
prayer so different from those which lovers usually 
make to him, or it may be that as his duties include 
the restoration of lost articles, he had got into the 
habit of bringing parted lovers together, or very 
likely the reason was that he knew what was best for 


274 JOHN TEMPLE 

the girl — whatever the cause, the more Dona Beatriz 
prayed the stronger grew the temptation against 
which she was fighting. Three times she knelt and 
prayed for St. Anthony's aid. Three times she rose 
to her feet and stood at her window, looking towards 
the camp and yearning to hear well-known footsteps. 
At last her human instincts overcame her. She 
uttered one hurried passionate prayer to her own 
favourite saint to obtain pardon for her weakness, and 
then called her attendant. 

The woman, who had been snoring on a mat at 
the foot of the bed, sat up, yawned, and asked what 
was wanted. 

“ Can you take a message for me secretly into 
the camp ? " whispered Dona Beatriz. 

The negress chuckled. Accustomed to a life 
which owed its savour to low intrigue, she had found 
her present service most deadly dull. Now it seemed 
as if it were to become more interesting. She grinned 
as she assured her mistress that she could summon 
any man in the camp without creating the slightest 
suspicion. 

Do you know a man who was one of those 
with whom I came to Sena ? " asked Dona Beatriz. 

The man who gave the Arab a jewel to bring us 
here.” 

The negress exploded with mirth. 

The red-headed man ! Tsitsilamoto, my people 
call him. The narrie means hair-of-fire. Why, I 
could call him more easily than any other! I will 
swear he is within twenty paces of our door.” 


A PRAYER TO ST. ANTHONY 275 

^‘How? Why?” demanded Dona Beatriz, her 
shame turning to hot indignation. “ What business 
has he here ? ” 

The woman shrugged her shoulders. He is 
like the dog who could not eat honey but would hot 
let the rabbit have it. Every night he watches your 
door, and if another cavalleiro comes he hits him on 
the head with his strong hands and drives him away.” 

“ Why should men want to come to my house 
at night ? ” demanded Dona Beatriz. 

The negress laughed again so heartily that for 
some minutes she could not speak. Then she 
explained, and the explanation, coarsely expressed by 
a woman who had never known modesty or chastity, 
redoubled the girl’s gratitude towards the man who 
had done so much for her. 

“ Quick, help me to dress,” she said. “ Then 
go and bring him here.” 

Dona Beatriz waited at the open door of her 
house while the negress went on her errand. Two 
minutes later. Temple stepped on to the verandah 
and halted two paces from where she stood. 

Dona Beatriz ! ” he whispered hoarsely. 

“ Senhor Temple,” she replied softly, ‘‘ I wanted 

to — to thank you for . Ah, senhor, could I let 

you go without a word ? ” 

There was silence for a moment. Then, in a 
voice that sounded strange and hollow, T emple replied. 
There was nothing to thank me for.” 

Dona Beatriz’s blood seemed to turn to lead. 

“ After all you have done for me, I wished to 


276 JOHN TEMPLE 

say good-bye/’ she continued. I think that I will 
go back to Portugal when the king’s ship returns.” 
Her words were formal and cold but her unhappiness 
showed itself in every quavering syllable. 

Temple started forward. 

“ To Portugal ! ” he cried. ‘^Then I shall never 
see you again ! ” 

There followed a moment of seemingly age-long 
silence. Dona Beatriz felt as if a gulf had suddenly 
come between her and the man she loved — a gulf 
that widened with each painful heart-beat. Temple’s 
head swam dizzily. His sight grew dim, and the 
lights of the dying fires in the distant camp seemed 
obscured as by a mist. As a sleeper oppressed with 
nightmare tries in vain to cry out, so he opened his 
lips to speak and could make no sound. At last the 
words came, and in his ears his own voice sounded 
strange and thin. 

Listen, senhora, I am a poor man, a prisoner 
with no property in the world but my sword, and 
you are a lady of rank with a rich appointment in 
your gift ” 

‘‘To give to whom I will,” she murmured, and 
as she spoke her spirit crossed the gulf that had 
yawned between them. “To whom should I give 
it but to the man I love ? ” 

The mist that clouded Temple’s senses still 
lingered, but now it was golden-hued and seemed 
to envelop them both, shielding and separating them 
from the rest of the world. Then he knew nothing 
except that he was holding Dona Beatriz in his arms. 


A PRAYER TO ST. ANTHONY 277 

and that all his life and all its pain had been but a 
preparation for this moment of complete and utter 
happiness. 

Then Dona Beatriz laughed, a soft, low, musical 
laugh of content and happiness, and pushed away 
his arms. The laugh broke the spell, and brought 
him back to the commonplace world, a world how- 
ever that was infinitely fairer and richer than it had 
ever seemed before. 

“ Let us sit down,” she said ; there is only 
one chair, but you shall sit at my feet, as a humble 
knight should.” 

She bent over him and kissed his head, then 
ruffled his hair with her fingers. 

And you would have gone without a word ! ” 
she said reproachfully. 

“Ah, dear one, I meant to win a fortune with 
my sword so that I might offer it to you without 
reproach.” 

“ Leaving me to eat out my heart without 
knowing whether I was anything to you. How 
cruel men are ! How little they understand ! ” 

Presently she whispered in his ear. He laughed 
and whispered back again. 

“ John, John,” she murmured, the sharp Northern 
accents of Temple’s Christian name ill suiting her 
Southern tongue. “ Have I been overbold ? Are 
you ashamed of me, John ? ” 

For answer he kissed her hand, and as he did so 
the wailing note of the bugle called the soldiers to 
wake and prepare for the march. 


CHAPTER XIX 


INTO THE UNKNOWN 

The column marched out of Sena, weakened by the 
loss of fifty arquebusiers and four cavalleiros, who 
were left to hold the fort under command of Senhor 
Furtado — weakened, too, by the loss of over a 
hundred men who would never more be roused by 
any trumpet that mortal man could blow. 

No one had obeyed the order to prepare for the 
march with more eagerness than Father Sebastian. 
He made a bundle of the breviary, the surplice and 
the sacred vessels which had been grudgingly given 
him by the Jesuit priests who accompanied the 
expedition, and bound it to the foot of the crucifix 
which he had saved frohi the wreck of the Sao 
Raphael, Having completed these simple prepara- 
tions several hours before dawn, he waited eagerly 
for the bugle’s call. While the soldiers had dreamed 
wild dreams of the gold they hoped to win, his 
thoughts had lingered on the number of souls he 
hoped to save from everlasting fire. Yet at the last 
moment he had remembered with uneasiness that 
he was leaving a young girl friendless and practically 
alone in a camp of rough and unruly men. He had 
prayed earnestly for guidance. Then he remembered 
278 


INTO THE UNKNOWN 


279 

that the Father Superior of his Order had taught 
him whenever his conscience hesitated between two 
courses, to choose the least attractive. Sadly the 
aged Dominican told himself that his reward was 
not yet won, and with many sighs he determined to 
go on with the commonplace work that was nearest 
to his hand. Sadly he stood to watch the soldiers 
march out of the camp without him. 

The bulk of the column marched along the river 
bank and broke a road for the six pieces of heavy 
ordnance which, mounted on waggons, were drawn 
through swamp and thicket by the native camp 
followers. The provisions and ammunition were 
carried in barges. When the wind failed, these were 
warped upstream with fearful labour. As they stood 
high out of the water they could not be paddled, 
and as they drew too much water to float in the 
shallows they could not be poled. Light canoes, 
therefore, went ahead with cables and grapnels, which 
were dropped overboard when the cable's length had 
been reached. The men in the barges then hauled 
on the cables, dragging the heavy barges foot by foot 
upstream till it was time to drop anchor and send 
the canoes ahead again. The men who toiled on 
land to break a way for the waggons sometimes 
envied their comrades in the barges, but never with 
half the fervour that these men envied them. Men 
who had fallen sick were put into the waggons and 
transferred to the barges every time a junction 
between the land force and the river force was 
effected. 


28 o JOHN TEMPLE 

Dom Vicente was the first man to be thus 
transferred. Unlike most of his fellow fidalgoes, he 
had not the least desire to march against Monoma- 
tapa, for he had hoped to remain in Sena the better 
to work for Barreto’s downfall. On the second 
day’s march, therefore, he contrived to stake his foot, 
and asked to be sent back to the settlement. Barreto, 
brusquely replying that he could spare no men, put 
him on board a barge, and, because a wounded foot 
does not incapacitate the hands, saw to it that he 
worked his passage. Except during the storm, it 
was the first time that this fidalgo had ever done 
manual work, and probably the first time that he 
had ever done anything useful. His companions 
noticed that his wounded foot healed with remarkable 
rapidity. 

Though the soldiers laboured from dawn till 
dusk, the column scarcely ever advanced more than 
a league and a half in a day. The fearful toil under 
the blazing sun began to damp the general zeal for 
conquest, and, in addition, fears both justifiable and 
superstitious demoralized the men. Lions followed 
the land forces and carried off donkeys and some- 
times even men. Crocodiles took toll of men who 
went to drink in the river. One day a cavalleiro, 
who had gone ahead to look for a way round a 
swamp, was gored by a buffalo, and on another 
occasion a rhinoceros, breathing fire (as all who saw 
it declared), charged through the thickest part of 
the column, leaving several dead and dying men 
behind it. Most of the Portuguese, never having 


INTO THE UNKNOWN 


281 


seen these monsters before, and having heard but 
vague accounts of them, regarded them with more 
terror than they actually deserved, and at every turn 
expected to see a dragon waiting to contest their 
advance. The uncouth shapes of euphorbias and 
gigantic baobab trees lent mystery to the landscape, 
and at night the weird cries of jackals and hyaenas 
chilled with superstitious fears the hearts of men 
who would have faced any human foe with a light 
heart. Being surrounded with so much that was 
strange, new and terrible, and seeing their comrades 
day by day suddenly stricken down by inexplicable 
diseases, the Portuguese began to feel that in pene- 
trating Africa they were advancing into Satan’s 
special dominions. To be safely back in Goa or 
Portugal, within reach of holy water and the com- 
forting sound of church bells, many a member of 
the expedition would gladly have given his share of 
whatever gold was to be won. 

By the end of August the column had marched 
some sixty leagues from Sena and had reached a 
broad shallow tributary of the Zambesi, named the 
Ruenya, up which the guides said they must now 
march. As it was impossible to take the barges any 
further, a base camp was formed for the sick, eighty 
in number, under the command of Ruy de Mello, 
the cavalleiro who had been wounded by the buffalo. 
The Ruenya, which winds amongst lofty wooded 
hills, is perhaps the most beautiful stream in Africa, 
but it affords a poor road for an army column. The 
heights on each side of it were examined, and found 


282 JOHN TEMPLE 

to be impossible for the waggons ; so that to find 
level ground over which to march, it was necessary 
to follow the course of the river. In places the 
steep flanks of hills jutted out into the stream. To 
cross these the guns had to be taken from the 
waggons and hauled on skids, piece by piece, up the 
hillside, and even the empty waggons needed a 
hundred men apiece to drag them over these pro- 
montories. The stream was crossed and recrossed a 
dozen times, and it seemed as if all the crocodiles in 
the whole length of the river learned to await these 
occasions, for it was never crossed without •one or 
more men being dragged under the water and 
carried away. Progress was so slow that often the 
fires which lit the camp at night served to cook thp 
midday meal of the following day. 

The time had now arrived when Barreto had 
expected the reinforcements to overtake him with 
supplies. Every evening he took his stand on some 
eminence, and looked back along the path his 
column had beaten, hoping to see some cloud of 
dust that might indicate the approach of the men 
he supposed to be hurrying after him. There came 
a day, a week after leaving Ruy de Mello's camp, 
when there remained just sufficient provision in 
hand to carry his column back to Sena. The general 
calculated the average weekly death-rate in the 
column and determined to advance another three 
days before deciding what .to do. At the end of 
the three days there was still no sign of relief. He 
determined that if the worst came to the worst his 


INTO THE UNKNOWN 


men could march back on half-rations, and progress 
was now so slow that it seemed as if the relief 
column must soon overtake them. After ten days 
more there was scarcely provision enough left to 
carry his column on half-rations back to Sena, even 
allowing for deaths on the way. Father Monclaros, 
knowing the state of affairs, was now constantly 
worrying the general to march back towards the 
relief column, warning him that he was answerable 
to God and the King of Portugal for the lives of 
the men ; but Barreto declared that if necessary he 
would abandon the guns and the waggons, so that 
the soldiers could retreat the faster, and refused to 
stay the advance. 

The strength of the column was now dwindling 
fast. Every second or third day a dozen or more 
men, weakened by dysentery or the after effects of 
fever, were sent back to join the other sick men at 
Ruy de Mello’s camp, and each draft so sent back 
needed healthy men to guard them. 

Twenty-five days after leaving the Zambesi, the 
column left the Ruenya and began to advance along 
the saddle of a mountain spur towards the great 
plateau on which Monomatapa lived. Now a new 
anxiety arose. The nerves of the soldiers had been 
weakened by excessive toil, sickness, privation and 
superstitious fears. They began to be still further 
harassed by the knowledge that they were surrounded 
by an enemy that they could not see. 

At first the evidences of the invisible foe were 
slight. The men in the lead found marks on the 


284 JOHN TEMPLE 

sand, and tufts of reeds tied in bunches. Of these 
they took little notice, not knowing that those who 
tied these reeds and made these marks, had done so 
in the hope that it would have the effect of making 
the feet of the Portuguese become entangled, and 
their wits confused by force of what modern an- 
thropologists term sympathetic magic. The native 
camp followers, however, understood the signs and 
trembled. 

The ground over which the Portuguese marched, 
too, was scattered with minute cone-shaped thorns. 
To the well-shod soldiers these mattered not at 
all, but they seriously occupied the minds of the 
barefooted camp followers. These latter, knowing 
that the thorns had not fallen from shrubs in 
the neighbourhood, recognized the work of an 
enemy and warned the Portuguese to be ready for 
attack. 

Confirmation of the warning soon came. One 
night a number of unseen men took up a position near 
by, but out of sight of the camp, and lifting up their 
voices began to abuse the Portuguese, describing 
with minute details the lingering and painful deaths 
that were being devised for them. The guides said 
that the enemy were subjects of a chief named 
Mongasi, a vassal of Monomatapa, who had suddenly 
sprung into prominence some years before, and 
whose wars had been so successful that it was ex- 
pected that he would soon be as powerful as Mono- 
matapa himself and able to throw off his allegiance 
to the paramount monarch. Next morning it was 


INTO THE UNKNOWN 285 

found that three hundred of the camp followers had 
deserted. 

Throughout the next day voices of invisible men 
hurled defiance at the travellers. A cavalleiro who 
had been sent ahead to reconnoitre was found impaled 
on a stake when the column overtook him. That 
night triple guards were set, and an inner guard 
watched the camp followers lest any more should 
attempt to desert. 

On the following day, though they could still 
see no enemy, the bush seemed alive with men, for 
the shouting of challenges was continuous and every 
gully echoed to the thrumming of unseen drums. 
The soldiers, exasperated at having their nerves kept 
constantly on the rack, loudly called to the general 
to attack, and Barreto could scarcely restrain some 
of the more hot-headed from charging madly, with- 
out orders and without organization, towards the 
voices. 

That night it seemed as if the enemy had dis- 
appeared, for there was at first no more abuse, nor 
noise from drums. On a sudden, however, a clear 
voice, that sounded as if it came from within a 
hundred yards of the camp, broke the silence with 
the grim message — 

“ Mongasi is rejoiced at your coming, and bids 
you make haste for he is hungry. His bread is 
ready for the meal, but he lacks meat to eat with it. 
Hasten. Hasten.” Then a furious noise of drum- 
ming arose and continued throughout the night. 


CHAPTER XX 

‘‘the thunder of the captains and the 

SHOUTING 

Few men in the camp slept that night. Fear alone 
would have kept most of them awake ; for though 
the courage that nerves a man's arm when an enemy 
is within striking distance was common enough among 
the Portuguese, they had little of the kind of courage 
that keeps a man cool when in darkness he awaits 
the attack of an invisible foe,. Noise banished sleep 
for those whose nerves were tranquil. Outside the 
camp there was the thunder of hundreds of drums ; 
within it the native camp-followers added to the din 
by wailing. They did not come of fighting stock, 
and each man of them, believing that he would 
never see another sunset, gave vent to his terror by 
calling, as every African does in pain or distress, on 
his dead or distant mother, “ Ohe^ mama ! Oke, 
mama ! " they wailed, and fought among themselves 
for hiding places in and underneath the waggons. 

At dawn the camp was put in order to receive 
an attack. A square was formed. The baggage 
was piled in the centre around the royal standard 
of Portugal. The two remaining horses and such 

286 


“THUNDER OF THE CAPTAINS^^ 287 

of the other animals ‘as had survived the march 
were tethered to the waggon wheels. The ordnance 
was dragged into position ; three field-pieces were 
placed in the front, a swivel-gun in the rear, a demi- 
cannon on each flank. Then the arquebusiers took 
up their stations along each side of the square, each 
supported by a halberdier on his right and a swords- 
man on his left. 

When all things were in readiness, Monclaros 
raised the crucifix and bade the men kneel. When 
he had obtained silence he announced that the King 
of Portugal had procured a special Bull from the 
Pope which secured salvation for all who should die 
fighting in the holy war against Monomatapa. Then, 
after reciting a general confession and absolution, he 
concluded with a few vigorous words exhorting the 
soldiers to fight valiantly for their King and Church. 

A long nerve-racking interval followed. The 
square had been formed on an open plain that af- 
forded no cover by which the enemy could approach 
unseen, for some days before a bush fire had swept 
across the hills, and the ground, instead of being 
covered fathom deep with grass, was bare and black. 
On the hills above Mongasi's men were forming 
for the attack. The Portuguese could see their 
sorcerers endeavouring to make them invulnerable 
by sprinkling the ranks with nasty concoctions over 
which incantations had been said, and their captains 
haranguing them to bring them to the state of 
nervous excitement without reaching which no 
African can fight. 


288 JOHN TEMPLE 

At last a great shout arose, and from three sides 
the densely packed mass began to move. As a 
foaming stream pours down a torrent bed, dividing 
where boulders check its course to reunite below, 
so, like a black flood, the savages thundered down 
the hillside. Where naked rocks obstructed their 
progress the flood parted until those behind, impa- 
tient of delay, leapt on to the obstacle and streamed 
over it, hiding it from sight as a stream in spate 
overtops and hides the boulders in its bed. With 
a roar of many voices the black torrent came on. 
The arquebusiers blew their matches into a glow, 
the swordsmen tightened their grips on their swords, 
the halberdiers moistened their hands, dug the heels 
of their weapons into the ground, and braced them- 
selves to meet the expected shock. Suddenly the 
oncoming horde halted and was silent. The ranks 
parted, and a hideous, white-headed old crone, hung 
with feathers and dead men’s bones, hobbled to the 
front. Holding up her naked skinny arms she 
screamed a comprehensive curse against the Portu- 
guese. Then taking dust from a gourd she flung 
it into the air and wailed a hideous chant. 

“ What does this mean ? ” exclaimed Barreto. 
“ Senhor Temple, you know the ways of these 
people. What does that old hag think to do to 
us ? ” 

The Englishman laughed. “ She is trying to 
blind us by art magic.” 

‘‘To blind us ! ” exclaimed a gunner. “ May I 
burst if I don’t blind her.” He took deliberate 


“THUNDER OF THE CAPTAINS” 289 


aim and put a match to his falconet. So well did he 
aim that the cast-iron ball struck the old woman in 
the chest and knocked her, a gruesome heap of 
writhing limbs, back into the savages’ ranks. With 
a shout the Portuguese cheered the clever shot, and 
the general, taking a gold chain from his neck, flung 
it round that of the gunner. 

The incident spread momentary consternation 
among the ranks of Mongasi’s men ; but their 
captains rallied them, and once again with brave 
words roused their spirits to fighting pitch. Then 
a tall naked warrior stood out of the ranks. A 
head-dress of glistening purple-black feathers covered 
his head and shoulders. A pair of ox-horns was 
bound to his forehead, and a magnificent leopard’s 
skin hung from his waist. In the right hand he 
held a long, broad-bladed spear. In his left he 
waved a rope of zebra-hide. These he raised above 
his head, and, in a voice that echoed through the 
hills, he shouted — 

“ Fumh^ azungu ! ” 

Each of his men answered, and the cry, “ FumF 
azungu^'' passed like low thunder down the ranks. 

“ What does that mean ? What is it they cry ? ” 
inquired Barreto. 

“ They cry, ^ Bind the strangers ! ’ ” replied Tem- 
ple. “ Do you see that each man carries a strip 
of hide in his left hand ? I suppose they wish to 
take us alive, to eat at their leisure.” 

Twice the black warrior repeated his cry. Twice 
again it echoed down the ranks. Monclaros, to 
u 


290 JOHN TEMPLE 

give the Portuguese a rallying cry, answered it with, 
“ Sao Thiago! '' and the soldiers shouted back, ‘‘Sao 
Thiago and Portugal.” Then, chanting a hoarse 
deep-throated chorus, the savages charged. Who- 
ever should accurately describe such a fight as then 
took place must have such skill as would depict a 
nightmare. Plain words of everyday use could not 
convey an idea of the age-long moment before the 
impact, followed by maddening turmoil, the roar of 
arquebus and culverin, the clash of spear on sword, 
oaths, yells, and the sobbing of labouring lungs. 
The ashes of the burnt grass, stirred up by the feet 
of the fighters, rose in acrid pungent dust that 
filled the mouths and nostrils and choked the 
throats of the labouring Portuguese. As each 
man's heated blood rose to his brain, he saw his 
foe dimly, as through a red mist, and struck at him 
wildly — blindly. 

Every man in the Portuguese ranks, from the 
general to the most ignorant convict, fought with 
desperate courage. Dom Vasco Fernandez Homem, 
the chief of the general’s staff, was struck by a 
spear that pinned his right arm to his side, but he 
shifted his sword to his left hand and fought on. 
Barreto’s cheek was laid open from ear to chin, 
but he knew it not while the fight lasted. But of 
all the men who showed courage that day, none 
were more conspicuous than was Father Monclaros. 
The historical records of that fight show that the 
Jesuit, false priest, liar, traitor though he was, had 
at least the virtue of utter fearlessness. He ran 


“THUNDER OF THE CAPTAINS’’ 291 


from place to place in the square, striding unheed- 
ing over the bodies of dying men who cried to him 
to hear their confessions, carrying the crucifix to 
wherever the fight was hottest and the ranks of 
the Portuguese most in danger of breaking. His 
courage was rewarded. Either by accident or be- 
cause Mongasi’s men guessed the cross to be a 
mystic symbol, and feared to arouse the anger of 
Unknown Powers, no arrows fell near where the 
Jesuit upheld it. 

In spite, however, of their courage, their supe- 
rior arms, and their better discipline, the Portu- 
guese began insensibly to give way before the sheer 
weight of their enemy. Their ranks had been so 
thinned by death and sickness that scarcely seven 
hundred men took part in the fight against Mongasi’s 
men, whereas the latter, according to the most 
modest of the recorded estimates, numbered over 
sixteen thousand. Mongasi’s men, when exhausted 
with fighting, gave place to those behind them, and 
retired a few yards to get their breath ; but there 
was no respite for any one of the Portuguese. 
Deadly weariness came over them, and they fought 
on as if in a dreadful dream. The arquebusiers, 
too hard pressed to reload their pieces, threw them 
down and drew their swords. The halberdiers 
grasped their weapons in the middle, in order that 
they might rain blows the faster, and struck with 
blade and butt alternately. Every downward stroke 
now was an agonizing effort, but each man knew 
that if he ceased for one moment to guard and hack. 


292 JOHN TEMPLE 

to parry and thrust, that moment would be his last. 
Inch by inch they gave way, till their backs were 
against the piled baggage, and their feet on the 
squirming bodies of the camp followers, who were 
lying on the ground and fighting among themselves, 
each trying to cover his naked body by worming it 
under the body of a comrade. 

At last the fearful pressure was relieved. The 
day was hot and windless. The smoke of the 
cannons had drifted lazily away as the smoke of a 
camp-fire drifts on a still autumn evening. Sud- 
denly by some trick of the languid air-currents, it 
drifted back again, and enveloped the Portuguese 
square with a murky cloud. There was a sudden 
pause, for no man could see where to strike. The 
din of battle ceased as suddenly. Then a terrified 
voice arose from Mongasi's ranks, “ Bewitched ! 
bewitched ! The wizards have turned day into 
night ! ” The cry was taken up. Panic seized the 
savage warriors. In another moment they had 
broken their ranks, and were scattering up the sur- 
rounding hills, crying, Bewitched ! bewitched ! 
The Portuguese soldiers dashed the sweat from 
neck and forehead, shifted their swords to their left 
hands, closed and unclosed the fingers of their right 
hands to ease the muscles of their aching sword- 
arms, recharged their pieces, and then, panting with 
great, painful gasps, sank upon the ground to rest. 
The fight seemed to have lasted for hours. In 
actual point of time it had occupied less than ten 
minutes. 


‘^THUNDER OF THE CAPTAINS’’ 293 

The general took advantage of the respite to 
order the men to breakfast. As soon as this was 
done the column, still keeping its square formation, 
although no enemy was now in sight, crept slowly 
forward. An hour after noon the soldiers were 
hacking their way through a dense thicket, when a cry 
arose that the savages were about to attack again. 
Fortunately for the Portuguese, their enemy once 
more before attacking paused to receive the unholy 
baptism of their wizards. The delay gave Barreto 
time to withdraw his men from the thicket and to 
pile up barriers with the timber that had been felled. 
Profiting by experience, too, instead of again piling 
his baggage in the centre of the square he used it 
and the waggons to strengthen his defences. 

It was evident that Mongasi’s men, too, had 
profited by experience. Instead of rushing on their 
enemies in a disordered rabble they advanced in a 
formation which some suppose to have been in- 
vented by the Zulu despot Chaka, but was in use 
among warlike African tribes centuries before that 
barbaric military genius troubled the earth. They 
marched in a solid mass until just outside the range 
of the Portuguese guns, then two wings or horns 
were thrown out from each flank so that their 
formation resembled in shape the skull of an ox. 
These wings encircled the Portuguese, still keeping 
out of range of their cannon, till their points met. 
Then from all sides at once they charged down on 
the Portuguese square. Well was it then for the 
Portuguese that they had piled up defences. These 


294 JOHN TEMPLE 

allowed the swordsmen and halberdiers occasional 
precious moments in which to take their breath, 
and afforded the arquebusiers and gunners time 
to reload their pieces. The first engagement had 
been a hand-to-hand fight in which before long 
the seven hundred men must inevitably have been 
crushed by sixteen thousand. The second was a 
duel in which the power of gunpowder equalized 
the odds. For an hour the fight lasted and then 
the ranks of the savages wavered, thinned, and 
melted away, leaving fifty Portuguese dead within 
the square, but nearly six thousand of Mongasi's 
men dead outside it. So dispirited were the savages 
that when late that evening the Portuguese reached 
a village used as a military station by a regiment of 
Mongasi's warriors they were allowed to occupy it 
without firing a shot or striking a blow. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 

The village that the Portuguese had seized was 
built otti the summit of a steep cone-shaped hill. 
Thus naturally fortified it could, in the hands of 
Mongasi’s people, have been easily held for days 
against the small Portuguese force. In the hands 
of the Portuguese, its natural defences being 
supplemented with artillery, it could be held for 
an indefinite period against any force that Mongasi 
or even Monomatapa could bring against it. Barreto, 
realizing this, determined to encamp there and hold 
the place until either his reinforcements should 
arrive or Mongasi should sue for peace. Next 
day Mongasi's men learned their lesson. They 
attacked in force, but so great were their losses 
from cannon and arquebusiers* fire before a single 
one of their men had struggled far enough uphill 
to hurl his spear that they withdrew altogether and 
left the Portuguese masters of the field. 

Early in the day that followed the defeat of the 
savages one of their number came to the Portuguese 
camp and asked if the general would receive a 
deputation consisting of twelve of Mongasi's 
295 


296 JOHN TEMPLE 

captains. Barreto sent word that he would receive 
them at noon, and began to prepare such a recep- 
tion as would impress their unsophisticated minds. 
A bale of red cloth, such as had been brought to 
present to friendly chiefs, was opened and with 
this an effort was made to give the generafs tent 
as palatial an appearance as possible. A demi- 
cannon was then dragged to the mouth of the tent 
and piled with lengths of this cloth to make a throne. 
Meanwhile three gunners laboured with oil and 
sand to take the worst of the rust off Barreto's 
armour. A score each of swordsmen, halberdiers 
and arquebusiers were then drawn up on either side 
of the tent-entrance to form a guard of honour. 
When all things were in readiness Barreto 
donned his coat of mail and morion, buckled on 
his sword, handed his shield to a tall halberdier 
whom he stationed behind him, took his seat on 
the gun and ordered the deputation to be brought 
forward. 

It was the pick of Mongasi's army that had been 
chosen to sue for peace. Each man stood at least 
six feet high, and each was a man of rank, as the 
Portuguese could guess from their catskin aprons, 
their feather head-dresses and the ox-horns that were 
bound to their foreheads. Slowly and humbly the 
twelve men approached, their heads bent, the spears 
in their hands held point downwards in token of sub- 
mission. They advanced to within ten feet of the 
general, then each laid down his spear, clapped his 
hands together, scraped his feet in salutation on the 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 297 

ground (just as a booted man wipes his feet on a 
door-mat), and squatted on his haunches. 

‘‘ Stand ! Bid them stand ! ” indignantly cried 
Monclaros, who had taken up a position by Barreto’s 
side. Is it fitting that these men should sit in 
the presence of the representative of the King of 
Portugal ? ” 

Temple, who had been summoned to interpret, 
hurriedly explained that the Kaffirs regarded it as 
insolent to stand while addressing a superior, and 
on a sign from Barreto invited the leader of the 
deputation to speak. 

The spokesman clapped his hands again, pointed 
his chin at the gun on which Barreto was sitting, 
and in a voice that was shaking with terror 
said — 

“ Master ! We are afraid of the dragon that 
your chief is riding. We have seen it spit fire and 
iron balls. How do we know that it will not take 
a dislike to us and kill us with its breath ” 

“Tell them it will be silent until I bid it roar,” 
answered Barreto, when this had been translated to 
him, and as an additional guarantee threw a fold of 
the cloth over the cannon’s mouth. 

“ Hearing that the strangers love these things we 
have brought a little gold and a pair of elephant’s 
teeth,” continued the spokesman, somewhat re- 
assured, beckoning to a man who approached, 
saluted, laid a tiny wooden saucer full of gold and 
a pair of magnificent tusks on the ground before 
Barreto, saluted again and retired. “ Also there is 


298 JOHN TEMPLE 

a little meat, Mty oxen and fifty sheep. It is but 
little, for we are poor and hungry.'' 

The Portuguese looked at the plateful of gold 
with some disgust. It was worth some forty 
cruzados and their imaginations had got into the 
habit of thinking of gold by the bucketful. The 
cattle, however, were welcome, for it was now known 
that food was becoming woefully scarce. Barreto 
then commanded wine to be brought, and after first 
drinking himself (Temple whispered that he must 
do this to show that the wine was not poisoned), 
ordered a cupful to be given to each of the head- 
men. These again violated the Jesuit priest's 
standards of politeness by turning their backs as 
they drank. 

Cheered by the wine and feeling now more 
confident, Mongasi's men stated their errand. They 
said that they were anxious for peace but were not 
competent to arrange terms, for Mongasi had been 
carried badly wounded to his own village three days' 
journey away. They suggested that Barreto should 
take six of their number as hostages, and send an 
ambassador with the other six to Mongasi's great 
place, there to discuss terms of peace with the 
wounded chief. 

While they were speaking an incident occurred 
which greatly increased their fear of the Portuguese. 
The only camel that had survived the climate took 
fright at something, broke his halter, and hotly pursued 
by his groom blundered through the camp. As the 
groom's chief anxiety was to head it away from the 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 


299 

general's neighbourhood the stupid beast naturally 
made towards it, dashed into the open space in front 
of the general and stood snorting, the remnant 
of his halter dangling within reach of Barreto’s 
hand. The general, seeing that Mongasi’s men 
were as terrified by the strange beast as they had 
been at the cannon, was struck by a brilliant idea. 
Taking the camel by the halter he pretended to 
speak a few words to it, then told Temple to say 
that this camel, having an inordinate appetite, and 
being accustomed to eat human flesh, had come to 
protest against peace being made. 

The spokesman of the deputation hurriedly 
promised that if the ferocious beast could be per- 
suaded to content himself with beef an ample supply 
should be sent him. Having received an assurance 
that Barreto would do his best on this understanding 
to restrain the camel’s appetite, the deputation saluted 
him with much hand-clapping and many extravagant 
compliments, saluted the camel with more hand- 
clapping accompanied by fervent prayers for mercy, 
and then, scraping their feet once more, withdrew. 

That night Barreto called Temple to a private 
interview in his tent and asked him if he were willing 
to take his life in his hand and act as ambassador to 
Mongasi, promising that if he could win over 
Mongasi as an ally of the Portuguese he should 
receive, subject to the king’s approval, any appoint- 
ment that Barreto had to give. 

I ask for nothing but the hand of Dona 
Beatriz,” replied Temple boldly. 


300 JOHN TEMPLE 

“That you shall have if the lady be willing,” 
replied the general, with a twinkle in his eye, “ and 
there is no man under my command who deserves 
it more ; but you need an appointment suitable to 
the lady’s rank, and that you must go and earn. 
Prepare to start at dawn, for I am impatient to 
advance. Now farewell, senhor, and good luck be 
yours.” 

Temple saluted and withdrew, little thinking 
that never again on earth was he to see the man in 
whose hands his fortunes lay. 

During the long idle days in which the Portu- 
guese waited impatiently for Temple’s return a foe, 
unseen and far more deadly than Mongasi’s naked 
warriors, attacked their ranks. A natural physical 
and mental reaction set in. The constant excitement 
which for so many days had nerved them gave place 
to dejection now that its cause had vanished, and 
left them spiritless and miserable. Deadly lassitude 
overcame them since they no longer had need to be 
constantly alert and active. In a malarial climate 
great exertion and great excitement frequently pre- 
pare the way for fever, and these causes, added to 
the wounds from which fully a third of the men 
were suffering, created an epidemic of sickness from 
which few escaped. One man in every four was 
smitten with the mysterious disease that the Portu- 
guese had attributed first to poison administered by 
Sena Arabs, and later to the sinister influence of 
evil spirits. Many more were attacked by dysentery. 
The stench from the rotting corpses that lay 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 301 

unburied on the hillside poisoned the air. Gloom 
and dejection fell upon all. In addition to their 
other miseries it was announced that the food 
supplies were nearly exhausted, and that unless the 
reinforcements arrived within ten days the camp 
would be dependent on such food as could be got 
from Mongasi. Very fervently the soldiers hoped 
that Temple would succeed in arranging terms of 
peace. 

At last one evening the camp was startled by a 
ringing cheer from the direction of the outposts.’ 
Every man who could walk hurried to the edge of 
the hill on which the village stood and stared into 
the valley. After two minutes of suspense a little 
group of men appeared far below. Five were 
natives, but the setting sun flashing on the steel 
helmet of the sixth proclaimed him Portuguese. 
Ten minutes later the newcomers were hailed with 
shouts. Do you bring reinforcements ? ” “ Where 
is your column ? ” 

Where is the general ? asked the Portuguese. 
“I carry a despatch.’' 

A dozen hands pointed to Barreto, and all men 
loitered near hoping that he would condescend to 
make his news public, but as they watched him 
read a vague uneasiness spread through the crowd. 

Bad news ! Look at his face ! He is pale as 
death ! ” they whispered to each other. 

Suddenly Barreto crumpled the despatch in his 
hand. “ Saddle my horse ! ” he cried. Dom 
Vasco ! Be so good as to come to my tent.” 


302 JOHN TEMPLE 

The crowd parted, wondering and silent, as the 
general and his adjutant strode through it. 

‘‘ What has happened, senhor ? ’’ asked Dom 
Vasco Fernandez Homem when they reached the 
tent. 

“Foul treachery,” replied Barreto. “Read for 
yourself.” 

The adjutant took the despatch and read — 

“To the Most Excellent and Most Illustrious Senhor 
Francisco Barreto, Captain-General and Conqueror of 
the Mines of Monomatapa and of the Kingdoms lying 
between Capo das Correntes and that of Guardafui, 
greeting from Joao da Silva, now lying at Mozambique 
in charge of stores for the conquest. 

“ It happened that as we sailed by the land of Natal 
we sighted a vessel of his Majesty the King’s ( whom 
may God preserve^ bound from Mozambique to Lisbon, 
labouring sore, and like to founder after heavy storms. 
We took her crew aboard^ the most precious part of her 
cargo, and a despatch for the King. I was minded to 
send one of my smaller vessels immediately back to Lisbon 
with this despatch, but decided to read it first, in order to 
learn whether its importance warranted this course. T he 
despatch contained traitorous accusations against your 
Excellency, made by Antonio Pereira Brandao, the 
Captain of Mozambique, who declared it to be your 
purpose to renounce your allegiance to his Majesty, and 
make yourself sovereign of the mines. On arrival at 
Mozambique, I learned that all the stores and reinforce- 
ments intended for the conquest have been retained by the 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 303 

Captain of Mozambique^ he assigning as his reason his 
fear that your Excellency should use them against the 
King s Majesty, My orders are to proceed to Goa with 
all speM^ hut I have commanded my lieutenant, whom I 
entreat your Excellency to reward, if God should enable 
him to discharge his perilous commission, to find trusty 
guides and follow you with this present, that your 
Excellency may know what treasonable devices are 
wrought against you, 

kiss your Excellency^ s hand. May God be pleased 
to bring you safe through the dangers that beset you. 
Tour obedient servant to command in all that I say, 

^^Joao da Silva. 

To-day in the fortress of Mozambique, i^th 
August, IS7^” 

‘‘ What will you do ? ” asked Dom Vasco, as he 
handed back the letter. 

Ride day and night till I reach the base camp, 
then down the Zambesi by canoe, and on to Mozam- 
bique as swiftly as may be. You must bring the 
column back as quickly as you may to Sena. Bury 
the cannon. We will recover them on our return. 
Discard everything that will hinder you. Wait at 
Sena, and I will bring up the reinforcements with 
all the speed that God shall give me.” 

Barreto called for food, and crammed his wallet 
as full as it would hold. His horse was brought to 
the tent door and he swung himself into the saddle. 

One thing more,” he said, as he gathered up 
the reins. ‘‘We cannot leave the Englishman to 


304 JOHN TEMPLE 

perish. Send a strong guard of men to bring him 
back, lest the Kaffirs, hearing that we are retreating, 
should pluck up courage to kill him.'’ 

Then, with a dig of the spurs, the general tight- 
ened his reins and thundered down the hill alone. 

Now, Dom Vasco was an excellent subordinate, 
but had none of the qualities that go to make a 
leader. Within the next few hours, though the 
adjutant still gave orders, the command of the 
column virtually passed into the hands of Mon- 
claros. The Jesuit set about planning the retreat 
with vigour, for it was to that end he had plotted 
deeply and so treacherously. In one direction, 
however, he disobeyed Barreto’s orders. It was 
an open secret that the Englishman would be 
appointed to the captaincy of Sena. Monclaros 
wanted that post — if not for Dom Vicente, at least 
for one of his own puppets. It would suit his 
plans, therefore, if the Englishman were to die ; and 
if he died at the hands of the natives, so much the 
better. Next morning the savages who had been 
retained as hostages for Temple’s safety were released, 
and told to return to their chief, taking with them 
a letter for the Englishman. 

The letter, written by Monclaros, but signed 
with the general’s name, ran as follows : — 

As soon as you shall have arranged terms of peace 
with Mongasi^ take guides^ proceed swiftly to Mono- 
matapa and hid him yield himself tothe King of Portugal. 
Demand that he should expel all Moors from his 


THE TRIUMPH OF MONCLAROS 305 

dominions and admit Portuguese missionaries^ punish 
the men who persuaded him to murder Father Dom 
Gonzalo^ and cede all mines in his dominions to the 
King of Portugal.” 

The heretic won't live long after he has carried 
out that order/' said the priest to himself as the 
hostages left the camp. 


CHAPTER 'XXII 


AT MONOMATAPa’s COURT 

Before Temple reached the “great place”* of 
Mongasij that chieftain had died. 

Mongasi had been a man such as is common 
enough in African history. He had made himself a 
chief through sheer energy and ability. As a minor 
headman of Monomatapa he had plotted against his 
king, and when that plot was discovered had fled 
with his fellow conspirators. He had then estab- 
lished among the mountains in which the Ruenya 
River has its source a stronghold which soon be- 
came a place of refuge for malcontents and outlaws 
from all the neighbouring tribes. He drilled these 
men, and led them against the weakest of his neigh- 
bours, ruthlessly slaughtering adults of both sexes 
with the exception of such strong men as elected 
to join his ranks and such of the young women as 
seemed likely to bear sturdy sons. Year by year 
his power grew. Year by year his dominion spread 

* In most parts of Bantu Africa the chief’s village is called the 
great place.’ ’ Thus in the Zulu version of the Church of England 
Prayer-book the words “all the Royal Family” are translated by 
words that literally mean “all in the great dwelling-place.” 

306 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 307 

as neighbouring tribes were annihilated or absorbed, 
until Monomatapa, fearing even for his own throne, 
made peace with the vigorous outlaw, and pro- 
claimed him one of his vassals. Since that day 
Mongasi had raided only such tribes as did not 
recognize Monomatapa’s sovereignty, but he and all 
his men looked forward with secret ambition to the 
day when they should have power to throw off their 
allegiance to the great despot, and stake all on one 
mighty effort to seize his throne. 

H is death left this ambitious band of warriors 
without a leader, for Mongasi having ruled by force 
rather than by right there was none to whom the 
chieftainship naturally descended. The sorcerers, 
fearing lest the death of the chief should disintegrate 
the tribe, as a temporary means of keeping it 
together declared that Mongasi would shortly return 
in a new shape, and so firmly did the common folk 
believe this that when they returned from burying 
their chief they fully expected to find him estab- 
lished in his new shape at his old quarters. 

Now when Temple reached Mongasfs village he 
found not a man therein, for all had gone to the 
funeral. Knowing that nothing was to be gained by 
humility he ordered his escort to lead him to the 
chief's own hut. Here he seated himself naturally 
enough on the only stool in the place — the stool, as 
it happened, on which Mongasi had been wont to 
sit when he gave his orders to his people. Being 
hungry and thirsty, he then commanded the king’s 
widows — such of them, at least, as had not an hour 


3o8 - JOHN TEMPLE 

before been taken to be buried alive in Mongasi’s 
grave — to bring him food and drink. 

All this happened by chance, but had far-reach- 
ing effects. When the headmen returned to the 
village they found, seated on the chief s stool and 
waited on by the king’s widows, a representative of 
the mysterious race whose magical arts had proved 
so invincible, and a man, moreover, whose fiery hair 
and brick-red face suggested supernatural origin. 
So surprised was the first man who saw Temple 
thus usurping the dead chief s place that, scarce 
knowing what he did, he raised his hand and shouted 
the royal salute. Others echoed the cry, and as 
soon as it was known that the mysterious stranger 
could speak their language, imperfectly, but never- 
theless fluently, the news flashed round the village 
that the dead chief, wearing the shape of one of the 
foreign magicians who had defeated him, had already 
returned from the grave. 

When Temple found that for some reason, into 
which he thought it best not to inquire, he was 
unanimously recognized as a reincarnation of the 
dead chief, he resolved to make the situation serve 
the interests of his Portuguese masters, foreseeing 
that the credit he would gain by so doing would 
bring nearer the day when he might claim the hand 
of Dona Beatriz. His first despotic action was to 
order twenty head of oxen (he dare not demand 
more till he felt his new power more assured) to be 
sent to the Portuguese camp. His next work was to 
muster his new subjects, taking thought meanwhile 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 309 

how to arrange for the passage of the Portuguese 
column through his territory. But before he had 
time to make his plans, the men whom Barreto had 
retained as hostages for Temple’s safety returned 
to the “ great place ” bearing the treacherous letter 
from Monclaros. 

Temple had been so spontaneously acknowledged 
as the earthly representative of their departed chief 
that none of Mongasi’s men had had the wit to 
doubt it. The confidence of the most astute of the 
headmen, however, must have been considerably 
shaken when Temple showed such ignorance of 
Monomatapa as to announce that he was going in 
person, and accompanied only by a bodyguard suit- 
able to his rank, to the court of that vindictive and 
powerful despot. Possibly they thought that his 
mind was still confused in consequence of his death 
and rapid reincarnation, or it may even be that they 
satisfied themselves with the thought that if he were 
not Mongasi he seemed likely to prove an admirable 
substitute. Whether their belief in him was shaken 
or not, with one voice they urged him to do nothing 
so foolhardy. In his previous life, they reminded 
him, he had taken good care never to place himself 
within the reach of Monomatapa’s clutches. When- 
ever his liege lord had summoned him, he had 
always discovered some urgent work that the king’s 
service demanded — such as the necessity of anni- 
hilating a distant village — to serve as an excuse 
for his non-appearance. The headmen reminded 
Temple that during the previous year he had 


310 JOHN TEMPLE 

suffered from a serious illness which the witch 
doctors had diagnosed as due to magic worked by 
Monomatapa, a fact which clearly indicated that 
since the despot dared not attack his powerful vassal 
in fair fight, he did not scruple to seek his death by 
foul means. They assured him that if he gave the 
word his men, in spite of the shattering they had 
received at the hands of the Portuguese, would 
follow him in battle array, but they entreated him to 
consider the unlikelihood of his finding his way back 
to earth a third time, and not to venture except at 
the head of his warriors. 

In spite of all protestations. Temple refused to 
be turned from his purpose. He realized how 
desperate was the task that he believed Barreto had 
assigned to him, and he knew that a reputation for 
utter fearlessness, backed by rumours of his super- 
natural origin — for rumour, he knew, would reach 
Monomatapa before him, however swiftly he 
travelled — would be worth more, in the coming 
ordeal, than a thousand armed savages at his back. 
He set out, therefore, and ten days later halted his 
bodyguard a mile to the north of the massive 
crumbling walls within which Monomatapa had his 
court, and sent forward a herald to announce his 
arrival. 

When he had left the Portuguese camp. Temple 
had been entrusted with a dozen Indian cloths of 
gaudy coloured silk, a hundred yards of cotton cloth, 
a Toledo-forged sword, and a few inexpensive jewels 
as a peace-offering to Mongasi. That chief having 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 31 1 

no further need of them, he had brought them on 
with him to present to Monomatapa. These he 
sent by men who accompanied his herald, with the 
message that they were a few worthless trifles which 
perhaps might serve to open the king’s eyes ‘‘ that 
he might see his vassal.” 

An anxious hour passed. Temple’s bodyguard 
were ill at ease. ' If any one of them had had the 
frankness ^to reveal his private thoughts, he would 
probably have said that he would like to be home 
in the security of his mountain stronghold, and 
that it was more pleasant to sweep with heart- 
lifting war-cry on to a defenceless village than to 
sit idle and helpless within easy reach of the pick 
of Monomatapa’s army. At last a murmur ran 
round the ranks that the herald was returning. 

“ His carriers are laden with your presents, 
Tsitsilamoto,” said the captain of the bodyguard. 

The king has no eyes to see you.” 

Then will I go at once to see him ; better that 
I should go now than wait till he has time to devise 
evil against me.” 

The captain knelt, clasped Temple’s feet, and 
entreated him not to go. 

‘‘ Be not so foolhardy, my lord ! ” he cried. 

What will your people do if they lose you again ? 
They will be like the foolish guinea-fowl that run 

* The name of an African chief must never be mentioned after 
his death. Mongasi’s men, not knowing what was correct in the 
case of a reincarnated chief, had got out of the difficulty by ad- 
dressing Temple by his native name, which they had learned from 
the camp-followers who had accompanied him to their village. 


312 JOHN TEMPLE 

this way and that when they see the hunter. Mono- 
matapa will eat up our villages and take our wives 
for his own soldiers. Without our lord to guide 
us we shall be undone. Think of the danger, my 
lord ! ” 

“ Did you ever know your chief show fear ? ” 
haughtily demanded Temple. 

The captain might well have aAswered that he 
had often known the late Mongasi show an amount 
of discretion that might almost be called fear in his 
studied avoidance of the dread Monomatapa, but he 
saw that it was useless to argue with his old chief in 
his new form. 

“ Then will we come with you, Tsitsilamoto,’’ he 
replied ; “ better to die fighting by the side of our chief 
than be chased like buck across the mountains.” 

‘‘ No. I go alone. Else will they kill me before 
I reach the king's presence. Do you wait here till 
I send for you. If one comes bidding you come to 
the king, heed him not, but fly, unless he carries this 
in his hand.” T emple showed the embroidered tassel 
that hung from his sword hilt. If the messenger 
shows this all is well ; come without fear. If no 
one comes before the sun has set then may you 
think me dead. Fly to your homes and set all 
things in order for the battle, for I think that 
Monomatapa's warriors will follow hard after you.” 

He strode away up hill towards the great place ” 
and the members of his bodyguard, whose theological 
ideas were apt to get confused in times of trouble 
and difflculty, occupied themselves with sacrificing 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 


313 

an ox to the shade of the old Mongasi, that he 
might look down on and protect himself in his new 
form. 

Monomatapa had chosen for his headquarters 
or great place ” a fortress built many generations 
before by the same mysterious people as built the 
ruins rumours of which gave rise to the Portuguese 
theory that the empire of Monomatapa was identical 
with the ancient realm of Ophir. A gigantic tor of 
naked granite, cleft on one side by some natural 
convulsion, stood up out of the plain. Its sides 
were absolutely precipitous and unclimbable so that 
access to the summit was possible only through the 
deep narrow rift. Only one man at a time could pass 
along this rift, and whoever did so was at the mercy 
of anybody standing on the rock-level fifty feet 
above, whence stones could be thrown on his head 
without fear of retaliation. On the level the centre 
of the hill-top could be reached only by means of 
a passage between broad-topped lofty walls, from 
which a mobile force of spearmen could hold at bay 
twenty times their number. No mediaeval European 
fortress was more impregnable than this hill-top. In 
its centre, separated from other buildings by smaller 
stone walls, was the royal hut, opening on to an 
enclosure in which Monomatapa gave his subjects 
audience. 

Not far from the spot where these men awaited 
the return of their chief there stands to-day a monu- 
ment to the memory of a few Englishmen, the men of 
the Wilson patrol, who, more than three hundred years 


314 JOHN TEMPLE 

later, were attacked there by the cream of Lobengula’s 
army. It is recorded of these men — we have it on 
the testimony of those who slew them — that they 
lay down under cover of their dead horses and 
fought till they could fight no more, but that when 
their last cartridges were spent they threw away their 
useless rifles and stood up to die, and as they rose to 
their feet they laughed and sang. It was in such a 
mood that Temple strode on towards the Mono- 
matapa’s stronghold. Terror strikes only those who 
turn away from death. Those who meet him face 
to face are inspired, by the mercy of Him who gives 
death power, with a wild joy that has no comparison 
with milder emotions. Temple was about to stake 
his life in hope of the winning of the woman he 
loved, and since the prize was well worth the stake 
he went to make it with a light step and a lighter 
heart. As he breasted the hill he sang a jolly song 
that he and his fellow apprentices had often sung in 
Cheapside taverns. 

“ Though I go bare, take ye no care, 

I am nothing acold ; 

I stuff my skin 
So full within. 

Of jolly good ale and old.” 

The sentry at the fortress entrance challenged 
him, but flinched aside as he pushed past. He had 
no heart to oppose one whose appearance and manner 
bore out his reputed supernatural origin — for rumour, 
as Temple had foreseen would be the case, had 
already reached Monomatapa’s court; besides which 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 315 

it was none of his business to spoil the king’s sport 
by prematurely killing one of his victims. 

Within the fortress Monomatapa was holding 
his court. Behind him and on either side stood, 
plumed and bedecked with barbaric splendour and 
armed with heavy spears, a bodyguard of stalwart 
men whose principal duty was to punctuate the royal 
utterances, whenever the king chose to speak, by 
murmuring, “ ‘ Kos' ! ^ Kos* ya makos' ! ” Chief! 
Chief of chiefs ! ”) On the king’s right sat four or 
five Arabs, men whose fearlessness, enterprise, and 
cunning had won for them lucrative positions 
as his unofficial advisers. On his left squatted a 
hundred men or more whose duty it was on im- 
portant occasions to chant impromptu verses in 
praise of their royal master’s strength, agility, military 
prowess, wisdom and benevolence, and on ordinary 
occasions to tickle his vanity whenever a suitable 
opportunity presented itself, by crying out “ Hail 
to the lord of the sun and the moon, the king of 
all land and rivers, who eats up his enemies as 
locusts eat grass. Hail to the great chief, the great 
wizard, the great lion ! ” In response to which all 
present would murmur, “ Hail to our Lord,” after 
which the business of the hour would be resumed. 
Whenever the king sneezed or yawned each man 
present vigorously clapped his hands, and a herald 
at the courtyard entrance shouted to all within 
hearing to do likewise. Whoever had the mis- 
fortune to have business with the king lay down 
before coming in sight of the monarch and wriggled 


3i6 JOHN TEMPLE 

towards the throne. While saying what he had 
to say he lay on his side before the throne and 
clapped his hands together at every fourth word he 
uttered. A satirist who wished to ridicule the pomp 
of kings could hardly imagine anything more ridicu- 
lous, for the king was not such a man as inspires 
involuntary respect. He was grossly corpulent. The 
soft fat on his thighs, calves and arms quivered with 
every movement. His eyes were dull, bloodshot, 
and half-closed. Saliva dripped from his open 
mouth and protruding lips. Probably nobody with 
a more offensively contemptible personality has ever 
ruled a deluded people. But there was a grim side 
to all this absurdity. In and out among the throng 
crawled on all fours a number of men who were 
known as ‘‘the king's hyaenas."' From time to 
time one of these men would lift his head and howl, 
“ NyamUy nyama " (meat, meat), and all his fellows 
would respond, “ Give us meat, my lord." These 
ghoulish brutes kept their eyes fixed on a gold- 
tipped spear which the king held in his hand, for 
if he dropped it, it was a signal that they were to 
pounce on, kill and eat whatever miserable wretch 
lay grovelling at the king's feet. 

The cries of the king's hyaenas were loud and 
persistent, for all knew that a mysterious stranger 
who claimed to be the dead Mongasi reincarnated 
had sought and been refused an audience. Suddenly 
above the noise rose the sound of a human voice 
singing in an unknown tongue — 


AT MONOMATAPA’S COURT 317 

'‘No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow. 

Can hurt me if it would, 

I am so wrapt, and thoroughly lapt 
Of jolly good ale and old.” 

All wondered. Monomatapa trembled, for he 
believed the song to be the incantation of a wizard 
more powerful than himself who came to work him 
ill. He had none of the brute courage and adminis- 
trative genius that had enabled his ancestors first to 
win a throne and then to build up the mightiest 
empire in the history of savage Africa. Sloth, 
hemp-smoking, unbridled lust, and the exercise of 
unrestrained cruelty had so sapped his nerve and 
energy that no power on earth could have kept him 
on the throne if his subjects had not firmly believed 
him to be the semi-divine successor of a long line 
of demi-gods. 

Monomatapa knew that only this belief kept 
him on his throne. He knew, too, that this belief 
would vanish if a secret, which he trembled to 
remember he shared with others, once became 
public. It was an unalterable law that as soon as 
the slightest physical infirmity became apparent in 
the reigning monarch, he must abdicate his throne 
and die by his own hand, for his divinity had passed 
from him. Each one of Monomatapa’s predecessors 
had faced the great Unknown voluntarily and with 
dignity ; but he himself, though he knew his time 
had come to follow his ancestors, clung ignobly to 
life and power. In the desperate hope of being 
given a charm that would cure his malady, he had 
revealed his secret to the Arabs. Ever since he had 


3i8 JOHN TEMPLE 

done so his life had been in their hands. He had 
had to obey their will. He had lived in terror lest 
they should reveal his secret, and had awaited with 
dread the inevitable moment when the man, whoever 
it might be, to whom his divinity had passed should 
come and hurl him from his throne. 

When he heard that a vassal whom he had long 
dreaded had died and immediately come to life again, 
he feared for his throne. When this same man, 
accompanied by only a small bodyguard, had boldly 
demanded an interview his fears were redoubled. 
When he heard the sound of what he believed to 
be an incantation in an unknown tongue, he trembled 
as if with ague, and he could scarcely suppress a 
wail of terror when there entered into his presence, 
unbidden, unannounced and upright, a clothed man 
whose hair was the colour of fire, whose face was 
the colour of the sun when it sets behind a dust 
haze, and who sang — 

“ Back and side go bare, go bare. 

Both foot and hand go cold ; 

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough 
Whether it be new or old.’’ 

As Temple came in sight the ‘^king’s hyaenas” 
and court praisers became dumb with amazement. 
The men of the bodyguard gripped their spears 
more firmly. Even the petitioner who grovelled at 
Monomatapa’s feet, realizing that something unusual 
was happening, stopped speaking and wriggled his 
head round to see. If a negro from Kamerun 
walked unannounced into the presence of the 


AT MONOMATAPA^S COURT 319 

Emperor of Germany, and saluted him as Willy !’* 
not one tenth as much amazement would be felt by 
those who heard him as was felt by Monomatapa 
and his court at Temple’s coolness. All expected 
that even if Monomatapa did not immediately 
punish such monstrous insolence, Heaven itself 
would strike dead the sacrilegious intruder who 
approached the demi-god king without grovelling 
on the ground. 

The Englishman advanced with confident stride 
and paused a moment to look at the monarch who 
sat before him. Then he raised his hat and said. 
Greeting, Monomatapa.” 

A gasp of horror was uttered on every side, and 
then the general indignation found vent. Regard- 
less of discipline the members of the bodyguard 
waved their spears and shouted, “ Kill, my lord, 
kill.” The court praisers rose to their feet and 
echoed the shout, and the staccato cries of the 
“ king’s hyaenas ” rose to a hoarse roar. 

Monomatapa stared at the intruder as if he were 
fascinated. His breath came in quick laborious 
pants. His bloated dusky face turned to a sickly 
ash-grey colour. He trembled until every fold of 
his gross flesh quivered. Then either by accident 
or by design his gold-tipped spear fell with a clatter 
to the ground. 

At the accustomed signal the king’s hyaenas ” 
leapt to their feet, but Temple was quicker than 
they. With one mighty bound he reached the 
throne, then whirling his sword high above the 


320 JOHN TEMPLE 

king's head he cried, ‘‘ Halt, every man, or your 
king dies ! " 

The court praisers cowered to the ground in 
panic, the hyaenas " stood stock still, the warriors 
clamoured for orders, but all looked to their king 
to see what he would do. Then the mighty Mono- 
matapa, the man whose lightest word was law for 
many thousand square miles, sank into an ungainly 
heap on to the ground, stretched out trembling 
hands till they clasped Temple's feet, and in piteous 
accents whined for mercy. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE DOWNFALL OF ANTONIO PEREIRA BRANDAO 

A WHOLE book might well be written about the 
hardships that befell Francisco Barreto on his long, 
lonely journey from the scene of his dearly-won 
victory over Mongasi to the fortress of Mozambique. 
Three days after starting he spurred a dying horse 
into the base camp on the Zambesi bank. Of the 
men who had been left or sent there, fifty had died, 
but the rest were rapidly gaining strength. Barreto 
ate a hearty meal, and gave orders to Ruy de Mello 
tp send all the assistance he could to the retreating 
column. An hour later, having collected a double 
crew in order that he might travel day and night, 
he embarked on a canoe and started on the long 
river journey for the coast. As soon as the canoe 
left the camp he lay down to sleep among the 
paddlers’ feet, and slept without waking for twenty- 
four hours on end. 

Midway between the base camp and Sena, among 
the foaming currents that fret and swirl in the 
dreaded Lupata Gorge, his canoemen lost their 
heads. The canoe spun round, and then flung 
itself headlong against the water-worn sides of a 
Y 321 


J22 JOHN TEMPLE 

giant boulder. Barreto gripped the gunwale with 
both hands, slid into the water, and lost conscious- 
ness as he and the fragment of canoe to which he 
clung sank under the roaring stream. An hour 
later he woke to find himself lying on the river 
bank below the gorge, alone, battered, and bruised, 
but safe. A week later, accompanied by a single 
native guide, he limped into the fort at Sena. 

Here again he paused only long enough to de- 
spatch what men and provisions the fort could spare 
for the relief of the starving column before embark- 
ing again in another canoe. He left it at the head 
of the river delta thirty miles below, and proceeded 
on foot across country to the port of Quelimane. 
Here he embarked on a small pangaia, and one 
Sunday morning, after beating for ten days in the 
teeth of a strong head wind, landed at last at 
Mozambique. 

Antonio Brandao, the captain of the fortress, 
was on his way to church with his staff when the 
pangaia dropped anchor, and the arrival of a small 
coasting vessel not being a matter of importance 
the occurrence was not reported. It was a feast 
day, and the church was filled, not only with the 
permanent inhabitants of the fortress, both Portu- 
guese and slaves, but also with the men who had 
been sent to reinforce Barreto’s column, and who 
for several months had been waiting for Brandao 
to order them to advance. A bull fight that had 
been arranged for that afternoon gave all present 
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“ His eyes were full of tears, as if it had been he who was the 

culprit.” 


THE DOWNFALL OF BRANDAO 323 

the Mass, so that none noticed when a gaunt and 
ragged man quietly entered the church. 

When the last Bominus vobiscum had been intoned, 
all surged towards the church door, but stopped 
and stood still in amazement on seeing the stranger 
come forward and lay his hand on Brandao’s arm. 

A word with you in private, senhor,” he said. 
“ Let us wait here till the church is empty.’' 

The rest of the congregation moved on and, 
realizing that something of interest was about to 
happen, lingered outside near the church door. A 
whisper passed round that the tattered stranger was 
none other than Francisco Barreto, the governor, 
mysteriously returned from the interior. One man 
peeped in at the door and reported that Captain 
Brandao was sobbing on his knees before the stranger. 
Excitement in the group at the door became intense. 
Presently Barreto’s voice rang out — 

“ Have done, senhor. Is it not enough that 
you ‘have played the traitor, that you must make 
your villainy worse by accusing valiant and honest 
gentlemen who are not here to answer you ? Go, 
coward, dog and traitor. Were this not a church 
and you an old man I would kick you from me.” 

A moment later Brandao came out. As he 
walked he reeled as if he were drunk. Without 
looking to right or left, he staggered through the 
throng, across the sunlit churchyard, and away out 
of sight. Then the stranger came out. One who 
left a record of that moment declares that “ his eyes 
were full of tears, as if it had been he who was the 


324 JOHN TEMPLE 

culprit. He was so fatigued that he seemed as if he 
had been engaged in some laborious task.'* He 
looked round the throng and said — 

Gentlemen, I am Francisco Barreto, your 
Governor. A ruined man, I think, but still your 
Governor. I ask the hospitality of one of you, for 
I am hungry and very tired." 

The man in command of the reinforcements 
stepped forward, introduced himself, and led Barreto 
away to his quarters. They ate the midday meal 
together in silence, the Governor staring at nothing 
in moody abstraction, and seeming not to notice 
what was before him. At length he drew from 
his wallet a dirty tattered letter and handed it to 
his host. 

“ Read this, senhor," he said. “ It was this 
that brought me back to Mozambique when success 
seemed within my reach.” 

The captain of the reinforcements read the letter 
and handed it back. 

‘^Now I know why we have been kept so many 
months in idleness,” he said. ‘^When we asked 
why we did not go forward, Senhor Brandao said 
we must await your orders whether to advance by 
way of Sofala or by the River of Good Indications. 
Do we advance now ? ” 

‘‘With as little delay as may be. How long will 
it take to transship your cargo into light vessels ? ” 

“The pangaias are scattered all along the coast. 
Senhor Brandao sent them to get provisions. It 
will take two months and more to collect them.” 


THE DOWNFALL OF BRANDAO 325 

“ Two months ! And my gallant men at Sena 
dying of starvation every day. Would God 1 had 
died before I led them to their deaths ! To-morrow 
buy wine and such food as sick men can eat to the 
extent of a thousand cruzados — it is all I have left 
in the world — it may save a life or two when we 
rejoin the column. For the present give orders 
that every man in Mozambique shall work from this 
hour onward at loading such light ships as are in 
port. Go, now, and set them to it.*' 

The captain rose to go. 

“ And Senhor Brandao ? You will have him 
arrested ? " 

“ What use ! Can I bring the dead back to life 
by putting him in prison ? I have discharged him 
from the king’s service, so he must needs beg his 
bread for the few years that God shall spare him, but 
for the rest God shall be his judge — not I.” 

The great ocean-going ships that had brought 
the reinforcements from Lisbon were too deep in 
draught and too unwieldy to navigate the Luabo 
mouth of the Zambesi, through which the relief 
column must needs go. A fleet of light vessels 
suitable for navigating both sea and river had there- 
fore to be collected from all along the coast, from 
Quelimane to Zanzibar, and loaded with the stores 
that had come with the reinforcements. Before this 
was done the south-west monsoon had broken, so 
that when at last Barreto was able to signal an order 
to weigh anchor, a gale was howling in their teeth. 

The pilots and master-mariners unanimously 


326 JOHN TEMPLE 

protested that it was madness to start before the 
monsoon had blown itself out, and it was not until 
Barreto threatened to hang half a dozen of them 
that his signal was obeyed. He saved little time by 
disregarding their protests. Four days after sailing 
the little fleet, battered and scattered, struggled back 
again to Mozambique to refit. Again it put to sea 
in the teeth of a freshening gale, and partly by luck, 
partly by desperate seamanship, managed to beat 
as far as Parapato. A short spell of fine weather 
enabled it to creep round the coast from there to 
Quelimane, but at this point it seemed impossible 
to go farther until the season changed. Three 
times it faced the sea and beat for days among the 
whirling currents and uncharted sandbanks that lie 
off the Zambesi’s many mouths. Three times it 
turned and ran back for shelter. At last Barreto in 
despair disembarked a small flying column to march 
overland to Sena, and placing himself at its head, 
left the fleet to come on by way of the Luabo as 
soon as it could. 

He had left Mozambique on the 3rd of March. 
On the yth of May his flying column reached 
Mazarro, a native village some ninety miles below 
Sena, and the mighty league-wide river, full to the 
brim of its precipitous banks, lay before them. Here 
only one canoe was to be had, for the people had 
taken the rest of their fleet to work amongst the 
lagoons that the Zambesi annually fills. In this 
canoe, with a reluctantly pressed crew of sturdy 
paddlers and with only one Portuguese companion. 


THE DOWNFALL OF BRANDAO 327 

a trumpeter, Barreto embarked, leaving the flying 
column to march along the river bank. At sunrise 
on the morning of the 14th of May, after driving 
his men hard all night, he saw the newly built for- 
tress and church of Sena. 

‘‘There are two flags on the fort, your Excellency,” 
said the trumpeter, straining his aching eyes across 
the gleaming water. 

“Then Dom Vasco is here with such of my men 
as God has spared. Blow a call, trumpeter. It will 
be the gladdest sound they have heard for many 
weary days.” 

No answering note came back over the water, 
but as they neared the shore Barreto could see men 
in ones and twos straggling down to the water’s 
edge. He shouted a greeting, and a faint cheer came 
back to him. Then the men on shore formed in a 
double line to welcome their returning general with 
a guard of honour. Barreto counted them. There 
were barely fifty. Between the ranks Dom Vasco 
Fernandez Homem sat on a starving horse, but he 
clung to the mane as if he could scarcely hold him- 
self upright. 

“ For the love of Heaven tell me, Dom Vasco, 
where are the rest of my men ? ” cried Barreto, as the 
canoe’s nose touched the sand. 

“ Dying or dead. Everything is at an end,” 
replied the adjutant ; and when he had said these 
words, writes the chronicler, “A severe fit seized 
him and he fell from his horse, so that we took him 
up for dead.’* 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 

From the moment that Barreto had left the column 
and raced to Mozambique in order to save his men 
as far as might be from the result of Brandao’s 
treachery, the constant need for action had kept him 
from brooding much over the ruin of his expedition. 
Now the full extent of that ruin was suddenly brought 
home to him. As he walked through the camp and 
the fortress, accompanied by such few surviving 
ofhcers as were able to walk, men looked up from 
the piles of rags on which they lay and feebly cried 
for food. Some were strong enough to raise a feeble 
hand to the salute, some were so near their end that 
they did not notice him, but stared straight in front 
of them with wide-opened lustreless unseeing eyes. 
In one corner lay the apothecary-surgeon of the 
column, worn out with fighting diseases he did not 
understand and starvation for which he had no 
remedy. As Barreto passed he propped himself on 
his arm and saluted. “ I have done what I could, 
general,*' he said, and fell back exhausted. 

They reached the straw-walled hut, already fall- 
ing into ruins, which Barreto had formerly occupied 
328 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 


329 


after relinquishing his house to Dona Beatriz. 
Here the general dismissed all save the senior officer 
present, of whom he asked an account of what had 
befallen the column after he had left it. There was 
little to tell. For three weeks after they had begun 
to retreat they had meat enough, thanks to the oxen 
which Temple had sent from Mongasi’s ‘‘great 
place,’* but an almost exclusively meat diet had 
brought upon them dysentery and scurvy. Every day 
there had been more sick men to carry and fewer men 
to carry them. Then relief had arrived from the base 
camp, but before they reached the Zambesi twenty 
men had died. Here they abandoned their waggons, 
and packing their two hundred sick into such canoes 
as they could find, had turned eastwards downstream. 
The time of year in which the retreat had taken 
place was that which the natives call the “ season of 
hunger,” for the stores gathered at the last harvest 
were almost exhausted, and the early rains had not 
yet produced the earliest of the new crops. 

Before starting to retreat, Dom Vasco, with the 
object of husbanding the stores, had disbanded and 
dismissed the native camp-followers, and these men 
had gone ahead of the column, buying up or stealing 
whatever reserve stocks of food were to be found in 
the native villages along the river banks, so that the 
Portuguese following after them found the country 
as bare of food as if a flock of giant locusts had 
preceded them. The hope of finding food in 
abundance at Sena had cheered them on, but on 
reaching the settlement they found these men almost 


330 JOHN TEMPLE 

as poverty-stricken as themselves. The massacre of 
the Arabs had killed the Sena trade. Caravans had 
found a new route to the coast that lay far to the 
northward beyond reach of the garrison. The 
native plantations had been abandoned/ and had 
these not contained foodstuffs which had come to 
bearing in spite of neglect, it would have been 
necessary for the whole settlement to leave the 
township and retreat to Quelimane. 

The reinforcements will be here, God willing, 
in a week,'' said Barreto, wearily, when the speaker 
had finished. Meanwhile there is food, wheaten 
flour and wine, in my canoe. Get it and distribute 
it among the sick. Where is the lady Dona 
Beatriz ? " 

“At work among the sick," replied the officer. 
“ There is little she can do, but the men love her. 
The reverend gentlemen. Father Monclaros and 
Father Sebastian, are too busy burying the dead and 
confessing the dying to have much time to spare 
with those whose need is less urgent." 

“ And that gallant Englishman whom I promised 
should marry her ? " 

“ Dead, we suppose, senhor. He never came 
back from his embassy to the chief, Mongasi." 

“ Poor girl, poor girl. Would to God she had 
stayed in her convent in Goa ! " replied Barreto. 
“ Ask her to condescend to come to me, and then 
distribute the food of which I told you." 

The fidalgo departed on his errand and Barreto 
sat still, his head in his hand, staring moodily into 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 331 

vacancy. Presently a light step recalled him to 
himself. Dona Beatriz, sallow and haggard with 
privation, but still bright-eyed and vigorous, entered 
the hut. The general rose, bowed low, and kissed 
her hand. 

I ventured to ask you to come to me that 
I might ask your pardon,” he said, when con- 
ventional greetings had been exchanged. 

“ Pardon for what, your Excellency ? ” the girl 
replied. 

For leaving you in this dreadful place. What 
amends are in my power I will make. In a few 
days the reinforcements will be here. When the 
pangaias which bring them return to Mozambique, 
you shall return with them and take ship for Lisbon. 
I will give you a letter to the king entreating his 
favour. If his Majesty is not pleased to show you 
favour, there is still my sister, who will be good to 
you for my sake. At the worst there are convents 
where you may find peace and a home a thousand 
times more comfortable than this dreary, famine- 
stricken fortress.” 

“Your Excellency forgets your promise. My 
husband is to be Captain of Sena, and my home is 
here with him.” 

“ Sena is ruined, the captaincy of Sena is worth- 
less, and your lover, I am told, is dead. Have 
courage to face the truth, dear lady.” 

“ They say he is dead. I have been persecuted 
with the wooing of men who swear that he is dead 
and are willing to wed me on the chance of your 


332 JOHN TEMPLE 

Excellency making some provision for me. I will 
not believe him dead. He brought me through so 
many dangers ; shall I doubt that he will come back 
to me in spite of whatever dangers now beset him ? 
If he is dead, then will I wait here where we plighted 
our troth before God, where every tree and stone 
speaks to me of his dear memory, till it shall please 
God to reunite us.” 

As Dona Beatriz was speaking she was interrupted 
by Monclaros, who suddenly without asking permis- 
sion and without apology, strode into the hut. 

So you have come to see how many are left of 
those whom you abandoned in the wilderness,” 
shouted the priest. Where are the reinforcements 
you pretended you would bring? Four weary 
months we have waited here, burying our dead day 
by day while you took your ease at Mozambique. 
Traitor and murderer, come out and see the misery 
caused by your ambition ! While we were advancing 
into this barren and cursed country did I not urge 
you again and again to abandon your mad quest and 
save the lives of those whom the king had entrusted 
to you ? You, blinded by lust of gold and power, 
would not listen. Now more than three-quarters of 
these men have gone before the Throne of God to 
bear witness against you. You would not listen to 
me before, but you shall listen to me now. Abandon 
this mad crusade while there are still left some lives 
to save. Has not God shown clearly enough that 
He will not give it His blessing ? Lead us back to 
Mozambique while we are still alive. You are 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 333 

answerable to God and to the king for the lives of 
those who have died in serving you. Lead us back 

to Mozambique or as God shall save me ” 

At first the general had listened to the priest’s 
tirade with weary apathy, but its wild injustice stung 
him at last to reply. He sprang to his feet so 
fiercely that Monclaros, brave man though he was, 
slunk back and became silent. 

Enough of this,” cried Barreto. “ I am answer- 
able, as you say, to God and my king — not to you. 
What I have done I have done under the king’s 
orders, and to him will I answer it. All the harm 
that has befallen this ill-fated expedition has arisen 
from my listening to your ill-omened advice. Let 
me hear one other word from you and neither your 
priesthood nor the fact that you are the king’s 
favourite shall save your life. Go ! ” 

Monclaros slunk away, cowed but not beaten, 
to find Dom Vicente and devise plans for raising 
a general revolt against the general if he should 
order an advance when the reinforcements arrived. 
Barreto, left to himself — Dona Beatriz had slipped 
out of the hut when Monclaros had burst into it — 
sank back into the moody abstraction in which the 
girl had found him. He felt utterly weary and 
utterly miserable. For a long year he had fought 
with heroic courage against terrible odds. At last 
a time had come when there was nothing for him to 
do but to wait, and his magnificent energy, lacking 
the stimulus that the need for constant action had 
given it, at last began to fail. 


334 JOHN TEMPLE 

For the first time since he had landed in Africa 
the influence of the climate had power over him. His 
mental lassitude prepared the way for physical weak- 
ness. Cold shivers ran down his spine. His head 
ached. His limbs felt lifeless. Presently, chilled 
to the bone, he carried his chair into the sunshine, 
but the sight of gaunt and starving men sitting and 
lying in idle groups gave additional bitterness to 
his misery, and very soon he returned to the hut 
and sank listlessly on to the bed. Later he arose, 
and unlocked a chest that since he had left Sena a 
year before had stood in a corner of a hut. He 
lifted out a bundle of papers, and tried to sort them, 
but his mind refused the task. He found himself 
reading and re-reading documents with as little 
comprehension as if they had been written in an 
unknown tongue. He tried to cast his accounts, 
but the figures swam mistily before his eyes, and he 
gave up the task in despair. At sundown he sent 
for Father Sebastian, announced his intention of 
taking the sacrament on the following day, and 
asked to be confessed. 

Next morning he had scarcely strength to 
dress himself, and would not have been able to 
reach the church had not his trumpeter supported 
him. After Mass Dom Vasco Homem — himself 
scarcely able to stand — and other officers, accom- 
panied him to his hut and urged him to eat, but he 
dismissed them peevishly and laid himself down 
again. Late that night Monclaros heard a rumour 
that the general was dying. The Jesuit’s first 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 


335 

thought was one of delight that fate should thus 
further his deep-laid evil schemes. His next was 
that it behoved him to hear the dying man’s con- 
fession on the. chance of making capital out of what- 
ever he might reveal, but when he reached the 
ramshackle hut in which lay the man he had wronged 
so foully, the ignoble thoughts of the schemer were, 
for the moment, driven out by the half-forgotten 
instincts of the gentleman. 

The dim light of a smoky evil-smelling candle 
showed Francisco Barreto lying on an unclean straw 
mattress, and shivering under a heap of tattered 
garments. The rickety table was littered with 
untouched food. In one corner lay the soldier’s 
helmet and breastplate. His sword hung against 
the thatch of the wall. The ravages of white ants 
were to be seen in an intricate network of little 
grooves in the wood of pillar and rafter. Tufts of 
rotting thatch hung from the roof in frowsy clusters. 
Rats scampered among unclean insects across the 
rough earthen floor. Mosquitoes filled the air with 
the thin droning of their restless wings. A musty 
smell of mildew and decay accentuated the general 
misery of the hovel in which the general lay dying. 

The Jesuit felt the dying man’s pulse, laid a hand 
on his forehead to estimate his temperature, and in a 
kinder voice than he had used to any man for many 
years asked him how he felt. 

His Excellency has been unconscious for 
hours,” said a voice from the shadow. Monclaros 
was startled. In the dim light he had not seen that 


336 JOHN TEMPLE 

Father Sebastian was kneeling at the foot of the 
bed. 

So you are here ! I thought he was alone,” 
he replied. Come, let us see what we can do to 
revive him.” 

The Jesuit, among many other accomplishments, 
knew almost as much of human ailments as was 
known in his day. Under his directions Father 
Sebastian heated towels at the fire of one of the 
garrison cooks and applied them to the general's 
chest and stomach. Then patiently, unweariedly 
they rubbed his lifeless limbs until at last, after more 
than an hour's exertion, they saw him open his eyes 
and look around him. 

At first he looked perplexed, as if he did not 
realize where he was, but when his senses had 
cleared he stretched a trembling hand towards 
Monclaros. 

I see you are returning good for evil. Father,'' 
he said feebly. We quarrelled yesterday. You 
must forgive me if I abused you. No doubt your 
words were those of a loyal subject of the king who 
could not see eye to eye with me.'' 

His voice fell away to a whisper, and his eyes 
closed. 

Monclaros grasped the dying man's hand in 
silence. 

A few moments later Barreto spoke again. “ Do 
not put up my things to auction. I do not wish 
the soldiers to mock at my tattered breeches, and 
the king would feel his honour slighted if it became 


THE DEATH OF BARRETO 337 

known that the Governor-General of East Africa 
died with less than a cruzado's worth of property." 

He sank back on his pillows. 

He will not recover consciousness again," 
whispered Monclaros to the Dominican. I must 
administer the last rites while there is still time. 
Fetch me the holy oil." 

Half an hour later Barreto turned slightly, tried 
to lift his hands, muttered something that neither 
man could hear, and then lay still. So died a man 
as loyal, as unselfish, as brave as any of the many 
heroes who gave lustre to the Portuguese nation. 
For a while the Jesuit joined the Dominican in prayer 
for the welfare of the dead man's soul, and who 
shall say, liar and traitor though he was, that his 
prayers were not sincere ? Presently he rose to his 
feet and opened the chest that stood in a corner of 
the hut. 

Come, let us see what money he has left," he 
said, “ that we may spend it in Masses for his soul's 
salvation." 

‘‘ You will find none there, for I asked him when 
I heard his confession," answered Father Sebastian. 
‘‘ The whole of his salary he spent last year for the 
sake of the king's honour in paying part of the 
arrears of the soldiers' wages. What little he had 
left he spent at Mozambique to buy food and wine 
for the sick. But his soul shall not suffer for lack 
of Masses. I myself will say them." 

‘‘As you will," grunted the Jesuit, with disgust. 
“ At any rate, as the king graciously appointed me 


338 JOHN TEMPLE 

to be Francisco Barreto’s adviser, it is my duty to 
see what papers he has left.” 

Father Sebastian resumed his prayers at the dead 
man’s bedside, and for an hour and more Monclaros 
searched amongst the papers that lay in untidy 
confusion in Barreto’s chest. In those days every 
Portuguese official appointed to a, high command 
carried wherever he went a sealed packet within 
which was written the name of whomever the king 
had chosen to succeed him. It was for this packet 
that Monclaros was searching. When he found it 
he glanced cautiously at his companion. The friar’s 
grey head was bowed in prayer. Silently the Jesuit 
changed his position so that his back was turned 
to the Dominican. Then he heated the blade 
of his knife in the candle flame and deftly inserted 
it under the seal of the packet, in such a way that 
the seal was lifted unbroken from the parchment. 
Swiftly he found the name within, and as swiftly 
returned the unbroken seal to its original place. 

Dawn was breaking when Monclaros left the 
hut. Before going to his own quarters he roused 
Dom Vicente and told him that the general was dead. 

Have you got the succession papers ? ” asked 
the fidalgo, eagerly. 

“ I looked at them, and left them as I found 
them,” answered the priest. Dom Vasco Fer- 
dinando Homem is to succeed.” 

“ Dom Vasco ! And you did not destroy the 
paper ! Who would have known if you had put 
my name in his place ? The king would as likely 



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THE DEATH OF BARRETO 339 

as not forget whom he had chosen. Did you not 
promise me 

“ Patience, my son, patience. If you became 
governor, on you would fall the brunt of the king’s 
anger when he learns of the failure of the expedition. 
When you are as old as I am, you will know that 
it is better to sit behind a throne than on it.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


IN WHICH TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 

The first part of the relief column, that which had 
marched overland from Mazarro, arrived just in 
time to witness Francisco Barreto’s funeral. 

The new-comers, accustomed to hate men of 
rank in proportion to the power these held, were 
utterly unable to understand the grief at their leader’s 
death shown by those who had served under him. 
When the blare of trumpets announced the moment 
when the corpse was to be carried to the grave, men 
who could scarcely stand dragged themselves to the 
little church. The heavy labour of carrying the 
coffin had been assigned to arquebusiers drawn from 
the relief forces, but at the last moment a dozen of the 
strongest members of the original column claimed 
the privilege. The carrying out of the ceremonies, 
the pomp and circumstance usual to the funeral of a 
general, fell to the men of the relief column, but the 
homage of grief was paid by the men he had led 
through so many and so great hardships. 

There was one man of the original column, how- 
ever, who paid scant homage to the memory of the 
dead. When the pompous funeral service was over, 
340 


TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 341 

Monclaros, as the senior priest present, held up his 
hand and called on all to listen. He told the story 
of the ill-fated expedition, dwelling on its hardships 
and dangers, and insinuating that but for misman- 
agement it need never have failed. Then growing 
bolder as the force of his words gained the attention 
of his hearers, he declared that as the general's 
adviser appointed by the king himself he had again 
and again urged Barreto to abandon the quest, but 
that blinded by lust for glory he had refused to 
listen. Men of the original command, I call you 
to witness," he concluded, ‘^that every mile from 
here to the place where we turned back is marked 
with the grave of a gallant Portuguese soldier. Men 
of the relief column ! Underneath your feet lie 
buried fellow soldiers whose death was caused by 
the ambition of a single man. Look round at the 
pale and haggard faces of those few who are left. 
They, too, would have died very soon if you had not 
come to their relief. Let this be a warning to all 
who seek for earthly glory, and who sacrifice God- 
given lives to serve their own ambitions." 

He ceased, and a murmur of approval ran round 
the members of the relief column, and even those 
who had served under and loved the dead man 
began to feel that they had a grievance against him. 
Suddenly another voice called for silence. Father 
Sebastian stood forward, and those who knew him 
noticed that his usually kindly face was red with 
anger. 

Hear another word, my children," he cried. 


342 JOHN TEMPLE 

‘‘He who lies dead below my feet was charged by 
his Majesty to carry the true religion into this 
heathen land and to avenge the death of Dom 
Gonzalo, the saintly martyr. Was not that a task 
worthy of any true Christian's ambition ? He 
beggared himself to pay your wages, and spent his 
last cruzado to buy food and wine for the sick. 
Could any man do more? There are two things 
that a successful man can leave behind him — wealth, 
or a good name. Only a man's heirs can enjoy the 
wealth he leaves, and it is soon abused and scattered, 
but a good name is eternal. None can destroy it. 
Your general died as poor in this world's goods as 
when he was born, but he has left behind him a 
name that will be honoured as long as the Portu- 
guese nation endures." 

“ You did not share the toil and danger of the 
march, Father Sebastian," sneered Mpnclaros, but 
the Dominican, unaccustomed to bandy words and 
already half-ashamed of his chivalrous anger, 
answered nothing, but left the church with bowed 
head and streaming eyes. Though his words 
checked the tendency to befoul Barreto’s honour, 
those of the Jesuit had their designed effect. As 
the fidalgoes passed from the church to a council 
meeting that had been called in order that all might 
know who had succeeded to the governorship, there 
were few but agreed that the conquest of Monoma- 
tapa was too difficult an enterprise, and should be 
abandoned without delay. Most of those few officers 
who had survived the hardships of the first expedition 


TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 343 

were too worn and too heartsick to wish to renew 
it, and those of the relief column, after hearing the 
Jesuit's words, had little desire to embark further 
on what seemed a wild and absolutely unprofitable 
crusade. 

Dom Vasco, announcing that he was Barreto s 
successor, at once took his seat as president of the 
council, and asked each fidalgo in turn whether he 
advised advance or retreat. Some counselled the 
revival of the project to advance against Monoma- 
tapa by way of Sofala. Some suggested waiting at 
Sena until the king's pleasure should be known. 
Only five fidalgoes, and each of these had served 
with the first expedition, contended that .they should 
turn their knowledge of the Zambesi route and their 
victory over Mongasi to advantage and advance 
again over the same ground as before. 

The new general was perplexed and troubled. 
He was as loyal and energetic a subordinate as any man 
could wish, but was ill-fitted for the responsibilities 
of command. His own choice would have been to 
go forward and carry out the letter of the king's 
instructions or die in the attempt, but he shirked 
the responsibility of ignoring the majority of his 
officers and especially of disregarding the advice of 
the priest. Dismissing the council without giving a 
decision, he walked moodily up and down the beaten 
track between the fortress and the river beach. 

“Shall I go on?" he pondered. “We know 
the road for a hundred leagues before us, and 
Mongasi dare not attack us again. Shall I try the 


344 JOHN TEMPLE 

Sofala route, at the risk of meeting new and 
unknown dangers ? Shall I keep the force in 
idleness till the king sends a command for me to 
give place to a more resolute man ? All the great 
achievements of the past century have been won by 
boldness. The Genoese seaman held on westwards 
in spite of his men, and found a new world. 
Bartholomew Dias allowed his officers to turn him 
back and left to da Gama the immortal honour of 
discovering a sea road to India.” 

As he paced to and fro he suddenly met Dona 
Beatriz, who, accompanied by her negress attendant, 
was distributing among the sick the delicacies that 
Barreto had brought from Mozambique. The 
meeting gave a new turn to his thoughts. 

How fares the most illustrious Dona Beatriz ? ” 
he inquired, lifting his hat and bowing. 

“ Very well able to serve your Excellency,” 
replied the lady. She liked Homem, but her 
acquaintance with him was not intimate enough to 
admit of a less formal reply to his greeting. 

Grant me a few moments of your esteemed 
company,” continued Dom Vasco, turning to walk 
with her. It may be necessary to withdraw the 
troops to Mozambique, leaving only a few men to 
garrison the fort. What would the senhorita wish 
to do in that case ? ” 

‘^Your Excellency need have no care for me,” 
replied Dona Beatriz. The Englishman, Senhor 
John Temple, is coming back soon. Your Excel- 
lency will remember that I am betrothed to him and 


TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 345 

that Senhor Francisco Barreto — may glory be his 
portion — promised that the captaincy of Sena should 
be given to whomever I should wed.” 

The Englishman ! Dear lady, he is dead.” 

‘‘ He is not dead,” replied Dona Beatriz. ‘^Two 
day ago my attendant told me that the slaves 
had heard news of him from their fellow country- 
men. He is on his way hither from Monomatapa’s 
land. Is it not so, Luiza ? Is not the man 
whom the Kaffirs call Tsitsilamoto on his way 
hither ? ” 

Luiza, Dona Beatriz’s servant, grinned. 

Last night he slept at a village a long day's 
walk from here,” she answered. He will be here 
soon.” 

Misery has turned her brain and her woman 
is humouring her sick fancies,” thought Dom 
Vasco. 

‘‘ But if he comes not. Dona Beatriz ? ” he 
asked. 

“ So sure am I that he will come to-day that I 
would go and meet him if I knew the road,” she 
answered with a glad smile. 

Luiza turned a stolid face towards the west. 

He is coming now. I hear him,” she said. 
“ He is coming by canoe.” 

Dona Beatriz turned eagerly and strained her 
eyes to scan the broad surface of the river that 
gleamed golden with the setting sun. There was 
nothing to be seen by European eyes or heard by 
European ears. 


346 JOHN TEMPLE 

“ Come up to the ramparts/’ she cried im- 
patiently. “We can see better from there.” 

Dom Vasco was too courteous to refuse, but he 
would gladly have shirked witnessing her distress 
when her wild hopes met with the disappointment 
that seemed inevitable. Reluctantly he followed 
her to the highest part of the fort, and from there 
undoubtedly they could see a black speck far away 
on the water. As they watched, the speck came 
nearer and grew larger. Then a faint droning noise 
reached their ears. By the time the speck had 
grown to the shape of a canoe the noise had grown 
until both watchers recognized it as one of those 
barbaric exhilarating chants that Zambesi boatmen 
sing when they are paddling at their utmost speed. 

The sentries down below, hearing the sound, 
shouted an alarm. A bugle blew. Men ran out 
of the tents and the fortress trailing pikes and 
buckling on swords. 

“ Go down, oh, go down,” cried Dona Beatriz 
eagerly. “ They think the Kaffirs are coming to 
attack the fort. They may shoot him before they 
learn who he is. Oh, be quick. And, senhor, tell 
him to come at once to my house.” 

Dona Beatriz almost pushed the bewildered 
general down the rampart steps, and ran to her own 
quarters. Then she stood still and waited. 

The long lazy minutes dragged by. She heard 
shouts ; then cheers ; then a long silence in- 
tervened. 

“ They are questioning him,” she said to herself. 


TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 347 

“ It is natural that they should want to question 
him.” 

Ten more weary minutes passed. Dona Beatriz 
opened the door, hesitated, stepped out, hesitated 
again, came back, and slowly closed the door 
again. 

‘‘He will be here soon,” she assured herself. 
“ He will surely come soon.” 

At last there was a quick step on the verandah 
outside. She flung open the door and held out her 
arms. 

An hour later the reunited lovers were seated 
hand in hand in Dona Beatriz’s room. Temple was 
in the middle of a rapid summary of his adventures. 

“ When their fat old king, Monomatapa, had 
done patting my feet, I lifted him and told him not 
to be afraid. I seated myself on his own throne, 
and told him he could sit where he would. Then 
we dismissed his court and sent for my own men. 
They came bringing the presents I had brought 
him. Later in the day he summoned all his chief 
men, and told them that I was a god from the other 
world who had come to share his throne, or some 
such nonsense, and proclaimed that he had appointed 
me to be his chief wife.* At this I laughed till I 

* The above is not a printer’s error. Presumably, considering 
that to be his wife was the highest honour that any human being 
could enjoy, Monomatapa was accustomed to proclaim as his 
“ wife ” any one whom he specially wished to honour^ When, 
years afterwards, diplomatic relations were established between 
Monomatapa and the Portuguese, the former proclaimed the King 
of Portugal to be his chief wife — the wife of his right hand — 


348 JOHN TEMPLE 

could hardly breathe, at which they all clapped hands, 
and the herald at the entrance cried to all the 
crowd outside to clap their hands, for the king’s chief 
wife had been pleased to laugh. Then they made 
me stand up, and Monomatapa with his own hands 
put these gold bracelets on my arms and these 
anklets on my legs. It seems that is an honour he 
gives only to equals. For the next week I sat every 
day in state, while every one within two days’ journey 
came to pay homage to me. Every man brought 
a present, either a goat or a cow, according to his 
means, and the very poor brought each man a great 
bundle of thatch. The cattle they gave me, if herded 
together, would need a square mile of pasture to 
feed on, and before I left the country they were 
building me a house after their fashion, as large 
almost as this fortress.” 

Then there will be room in it for me,” whispered 
Dona Beatriz. Go on, John.” 

He kissed her thin face tenderly and resumed. 

The king gave me three attendants — I have 
them with me now — who were charged never to leave 
me. One he called ^ my eye.’ It is his duty to 
tell me of all he sees. The second is called ^ my 
ear.’ He tells me of all he hears. The third is 
‘ my mouth.’ He issues any order I may give, for 
I am looked upon as too great a person to speak 
direct with any one except Monomatapa himself. 
All this time I was wondering why I did not get 

the Governor of Mozambique to be the wife of his left hand, and 
the rest of the Portuguese nation to be his inferior wives. 


TEMPLE RETURNS TO SENA 349 

orders from the general as to what I was to do, and 
meanwhile thought it best to go and see the mines 
of which the Portuguese imagine such great things. 
For six months I travelled up and down the whole 
length of Monomatapa's empire, being feasted and 
honoured wherever I went. I believe that Mono- 
matapa, fearing to lose his throne, was glad to have 
me after he had lost his terror of me, believing that 
I should help him to stay in power. The mines are 
poor enough, but oh, dear heart, what country ! 
Every day I climbed to the top of one of their great 
bare granite hills and saw league upon league of 
rolling down and fertile valley. It was burned and 
black when I first came, but the rains came soon — 
the people believe I brought them — and soon all 
was green and beautiful. And what air ! Every 
breath gives new vigour. Midday is hot in that 
land, but the mornings and evenings are cool, and 
the nights are cold so that one wakes refreshed. 
And what royal hunting we had ! Sometimes I and 
a score of the chief men stood on a low hill while 
three or four thousand men in a great circle drove 
the game towards us so that we slew them with 
spears. I killed three lions, which only a king may 
kill. No word came from the general all this while, 
and I became sick with longing for you, so summoned 
my bodyguard to accompany me, and here I am.” 

But you will go back and I will go with you,” 
said Dona Beatriz, twining her arms around her 
lover's neck. You shall take me away from this 
dreadful place, whether Dom Vasco approves or no. 


350 JOHN TEMPLE 

You shall rule these people justly and Father 
Sebastian and I will gather their little ones around 
us and teach them to be good Catholics. Does that 
meet your royal pleasure, my husband and my 
king?’’ 


CHAPTER XXVI 


IN WHICH TEMPLE GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 

The sudden and dramatic reappearance from the far 
interior of a man whom all had believed to be dead 
caused intense excitement in the Portuguese camp 
that night and during the following morning. It 
was announced that Temple was to give an account 
of himself at a council to be held at noon on the 
day following his return. Meanwhile men of the 
original column had to tell again and again to the 
new arrivals all there was to know of the English- 
man, how it came about that he held a captain’s rank 
in the Portuguese army, and what had been his 
mission to Monomatapa. As only the officers knew 
that he had been sent on an embassy to Mongasi, 
and as Monclaros and Dom Vicente had kept to 
themselves the secret of the forged letter which had 
sent him on to Monomatapa himself, speculation on 
this last point was wildly inaccurate. 

The common soldiers, whose idea of barbaric 
potentates was vague, and whose belief in magic was 
implicit, suggested that single-handed he had defeated 
Monomatapa’s armies by the black art (of which as 
a heretic he was presumably a master), had usurped 
351 


352 JOHN TEMPLE 

his throne, and had now come to make a treaty with 
his predecessor's enemies. The better educated 
members of the relief column, on whom the Jesuit's 
sermon that day had made an impression, suggested 
that Barreto, having traitorous designs, had sent 
Temple to find out what price Monomatapa would 
pay for the betrayal of the Portuguese forces. 
When they found that this uncharitable suggestion 
was bitterly resented by Barreto's men, they acted 
on a hint astutely dropped by Father Monclaros, 
and suggested that Temple had deserted to the 
enemy, and had now come to learn, under cover 
of some plausible pretext, the plans and the strength 
of the Portuguese reinforcements. 

A few of Temple's old comrades, and especially 
Senhor Furtado, the provisional captain of Sena, 
who on the overland march from Natal had stood 
by Temple when Dom Vicente's party had deserted 
him, declared their warm belief in his loyalty, but 
the fact that he was an Englishman, and a convict, 
carried such weight with the majority that a general 
opinion was expressed to the effect that if the new 
general were wise he would have him shot without 
trial as a traitor and a spy. 

Temple had ordered the two hundred armed 
savages who had formed his bodyguard to encamp 
half a mile up-stream, and, lest some quarrel should 
arise between them and the Portuguese soldiers, the 
strictest orders had been issued that no one should 
go within hail of them. Nothing, therefore, could 
be learned from these men, and all waited impatiently 


GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 353 

for the time when Temple should give an account 
of himself to the general and his staff. 

No room in the fortress was large enough to 
hold all the fidalgoes whose rank entitled them to 
a seat on the council. It was held, therefore, within 
the square formed by the four sides of the fort. 
Dom Vasco, with Father Monclaros at his side, sat 
at a table placed in the shade of the southern wall. 
The other officers, furniture being scarce in Sena, 
seated themselves on the ground on either side of 
the general. A sentry stood at the entrance to the 
courtyard to keep off all who were not entitled to 
be present. 

Now it happened that the man told off to act 
as sentry was none other than Black Jorge, the man 
who had joined in the conspiracy to seize the Sao 
Raphael and had loyally stood by Temple when he 
had assumed command over those who survived its 
wreck. He had overheard and believed the rumours 
that the Englishman had deserted to Monomatapa, 
and was determined to listen with all his attention 
to his story, with the object of ascertaining whether 
it would be profitable for himself to do likewise. 

At the very outset the general opinion went 
against Temple. Directly he mentioned the letter 
he had received ordering him to go on from 
Mongasi's village to Monomatapa, Dom Vasco 
interrupted him — 

“ I know of no such letter,” he declared. The 
letter which I caused to be written to you ordered 
you to return. Was it not so. Father Monclaros ? ” 


354 JOHN TEMPLE 

The Jesuit lied glibly, and a heated controversy 
arose. Challenged to produce the letter. Temple 
replied that having seen no reason for keeping it 
he had destroyed it. He was allowed to proceed 
with his story, but the general impression that he 
had deserted to the enemy gained ground, and he 
was made to feel that he stood before his fellow 
officers not as a soldier who has carried out a 
brilliant piece of work, but as one who has to 
defend himself against well-grounded suspicions. 

There were murmurs of applause, however, when 
he related how he had gone alone into Monomatapa’s 
presence, and a spontaneous cheer arose as he told 
of the terror which had caused that much-dreaded 
potentate to kneel at his feet. 

‘‘ What terms did you make with him on behalf 
of his Majesty the King of Portugal ? 

I utterly failed to make him understand that 
any such monarch exists,” replied Temple, ‘‘for 
his courtiers tell him that he is the only king on 
earth. He had heard of the Portuguese through 
his headmen, but he took little interest in you 
after he had learned of your retreat. His magicians 
told him that they had woven such powerful spells 
over his dominions that you could not cross his 
frontiers. I therefore made treaty with him as if 
on my own behalf. In accordance with my in- 
structions, I demanded that he should expel all 
Moors from his dominions. This he promised to 
do, but I doubt if he has power to keep his word 
or whether it would be to your advantage if he 


GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 355 

did. I demanded that he should admit your mis- 
sionaries, and he offered no objection. I demanded 
that he should put to death the men who caused 
Father Dom Gonzalo to be murdered, and he 
replied that he had long since done so, though in 
this I believe he lied. Finally, I demanded all 
mines in his dominions. He replied that he gave 
them to me freely, and I in duty bound give them 
as freely to you.’* 

At this magnificent act of loyalty a loud cheer 
arose from the assembled fidalgoes. Father Mon- 
claros saw that the general opinion was veering 
round in favour of Temple and feared that his 
announcement would inspirit the officers to go on 
with a crusade he had done so much to ruin. He 
scornfully interposed — 

“ You are very generous, senhor, but the mines 
are not yours to give. They were granted with the 
rest of Africa and Asia to His Most Faithful Majesty, 
the King of Portugal, when His Holiness, Pope 
Alexander VI. divided the then unknown world 
between Spain and Portugal.” 

Temple laughed. Then there is no need to 
quarrel over them. Father,” he replied. “ Perhaps 
I should not have been so generous if the mines 
had been of any value either to myself or to Portugal. 
They are scattered all over the country, and for the 
most part are so poor that a man labouring all day 
for a week, will scarcely take a cruzado’s worth of 
gold. If you work the mines by slave labour, you 
will need a soldier to stand over each slave to see 


356 JOHN TEMPLE 

that he does his work, for Kaffirs are like the rest of 
us, they will not work without reward unless you 
beat them. You would thus need an army to occupy 
the country and another army to maintain communi- 
cation with the coast, and when you had paid your 
soldiers there would be little gold left for the King 
of Portugal, for every ounce of gold would have 
cost more than it was worth.” 

‘‘ How then do you advise we should get the 
gold ? ” asked Dom Vasco, forced against his will 
to see reason in Temple’s argument. 

By trade, as the Arabs do. The Kaffirs greatly 
desire to possess cloth, and have no idea of its value. 
For a fathom of cloth such as you may buy in Goa 
for a few pence they will give a quill full of gold 
dust worth, I estimate, two cruzados. You will 
find it cheaper to buy the gold at these prices than 
to force men to mine it for you.” 

“ You would counsel us to abandon the conquest, 
then,” inquired Monclaros, surprised that Temple 
had hit on an economic truth which he himself had 
realized long before, and thinking that he had found 
in the Englishman an unexpected ally, and advance 
no further into the country except as merchants ? ” 

“ I would counsel you to leave this place, where 
neither men nor even cattle can live for long, and 
settle in the land of Monomatapa, as fair and healthy 
a land as any on this earth. A garrison you must 
leave to keep the highway open, and garrisons you 
must have in Monomatapa’s land lest he turn traitor. 
But I counsel you to seek to live at peace, and win 


GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 357 

by honest trade the wealth that I believe you will 
never win with the sword. A stroke of fortune has 
given me power in that land equal to that of Mono- 
matapa himself. I will be your protector until you 
have established yourselves and then I will ask, in 
return for my services, license and the means to 
return to my own country with the dear lady who 
is to be my wife.** 

Again a murmur of applause arose, and again 
the Jesuit endeavoured to counteract it. 

“ You will be our protector, indeed ! ** he cried 
scornfully. ‘‘ These are big words to come from a 
convict*s mouth. Remember, convict, that your 
life is forfeit, and that you live from day to day 
only by clemency of His Excellency Dom Vasco 
Ferdinandez Homem. Your Excellency, this heretic 
was taken at Ormuz and convicted of being an Eng- 
lish spy. Can you not see that having traitorously 
gone over to the enemy, inspired by hatred of the 
Portuguese, he wishes to lure us into the country 
of his heathen ally that he may utterly destroy us ? 
How long would it be before he betrayed us ? You 
know that the English are a race of pirates, as desti- 
tute of faith and honour as they are of religion. 
You know the harm they do every year to the fleets 
of his Most Catholic Majesty, the King of Spain. 
Do you suppose they have any greater respect for 
the Portuguese? On behalf of his Majesty the 
King, I bid you arrest this traitor.** 

At this Senhor Furtado rose in his place. 

Shame on you. Father Monclaros ! ** he cried. 


3s8 JOHN TEMPLE 

‘‘ This is the man who brought me and five others 
out of slavery in Inyaka's village. He is as gallant 
a gentleman as ever wore sword, and no more a 
traitor than you are.” 

A few others followed Furtado's lead and cried, 
“ Shame, shame. Let the Englishman be heard,” 
but most of those present supported Monclaros, 
shouting, Down with the heretic,” “ Back to the 
galleys, convict,” ^‘To the gallows with the English 
pirate,” Death to the traitor.” 

Temple looked round on the yelping crowd with 
a sneer on his face, then he turned to Homem — 

“An Englishman 1 am, and one who has little 
cause to love the Portuguese, yet I served Francisco 
Barreto faithfully and would serve you faithfully if 
you choose. If you accept my services, well and 
good. If not, I will go my way, for I owe alle- 
giance neither to you nor the King of Portugal.” 

Dom Vasco wavered. Monclaros sprang to his 
feet. 

“ Enough of this ! The spy must die. Seize 
him and bind him, senhors ! ” 

At this Dom Vicente left his place and ran 
towards the Englishman. Temple swung round 
and met his rush with a blow of his fist that, taking 
him full on the point of the jaw, sent him reeling 
to the ground. 

“ Be thankful that my sword is too good for 
such as you,” he said, “yf Deus^ Dom Vasco; 
since you refuse my services I will go my own 
way.” 


GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 359 

He strode towards the door. Then at last Dom 
Vasco made up his mind. 

‘‘ Arrest the Englishman/' he commanded. “Bar 
the way, sentry.” 

A dozen fidalgoes sprang forward to obey. In 
another moment the Englishman would have been 
overpowered had not Black Jorge, the sentry, who 
had no love for his officers but an intense respect 
for T emple, acted with extraordinary clumsiness. H e 
jumped away from the entrance as if afraid that 
Temple would run him through, then swinging his 
long halberd aloft he brought it down in such a way 
that it missed Temple's head by a good six inches 
but dealt a crushing blow to the shins of his fore- 
most pursuer. The unhappy fidalgo fell prostrate 
and another following hard behind him tripped ^ver 
his body and fell likewise, momentarily blocking the 
entrance. 

“ A DeuSy senhors/' shouted Temple in derision, 
then grasping his dangling scabbard lest it should 
trip him, settled himself to run. The council broke 
up in confusion, for most of those present, urged on 
by Monclaros, streamed out of the fortress to chase 
the fjgitive. Dom Vasco mounted the rampart to 
see the result of the hunt, accompanied by those 
who by reason of shortness of breath or indifference 
to the issue did not care to join in it. The race was 
soon decided. Temple had a double advantage. 
Constant hard exercise and the fine air of Mono- 
matapa's country had steeled his muscles, whereas 
those who followed him were enervated by the 


36 o JOHN TEMPLE 

climate and forced inactivity. Temple, too, ran 
with a single purpose, but every fidalgo who found 
himself momentarily leading the hunt prudently 
slackened his pace for a while to enable his com- 
panions to come up with him. Half an hour later 
the pursuers returned, dripping with perspiration, 
weary, and crestfallen. 

“We chased him till he reached his Kaffir body- 
guard,” reported one of them to Dom Vasco, “and 
his men closed round him and came forward to attack 
us. Seeing ourselves outnumbered we withdrew, 
but came back by way of the river bank and destroyed 
his canoes. When they saw us retire they turned 
back, and leaving their camp, struck southwards 
towards the hills.” 

“ May the devil go with him ! We are well 
rid of him,” said Dom Vasco. “ His treachery 
decides one debateable point. If we advance against 
Monomatapa again we must advance by way of 
Sofala, for we may be sure that he will raise the 
tribes against us all along our former route.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


A PATH OF GOLD 

The private soldier who does not grumble when 
told off* for extra duty is as rare as is the man in 
other walks of life who considers himself overpaid. 
Black Jorge, the mulatto gunner, grumbled both 
vehemently and fluently when the sergeant of the 
guard chose him that evening to go on sentry-go 
guard over the canoes that the relief column had 
brought up the river. 

‘‘ I was on guard at the council all the after- 
noon, sergeant,” he complained, ^'and nearly got 
myself run through by the mad Englishman. It’s 
not my turn again. Besides, the new-comers ought 
to do the work and give us poor fellows a rest.” 

‘^You let the Englishman escape! Be thankful 
you are not in irons I ” retorted the sergeant ; and 
Black Jorge gulped down the last mouthfuls of his 
supper, and, still muttering curses, made his way to 
the beach. 

The canoes had been hauled up on to the sand 
that fringed the water-side. Some of them were 
empty, as the foodstuffs that the relief column had 
brought had been unloaded and locked in the 
361 


362 JOHN TEMPLE 

fortress, for common soldiers regard the stealing of 
extra rations as a very venial sin. Those that had 
not carried eatables were still loaded ; and it was 
over these that Black Jorge was stationed. 

Who the devil wants to steal ammunition ? 
muttered the mulatto, as he took up his post. 
‘‘ They make work for us poor fellows.’* 

Jorge was not of an artistic temperament, or he 
might have found comfort in the beauty of the 
scene. The broad river, that had glittered all day 
under the burning sun with a blinding steel-grey 
glare, now shone with beautiful mellow tints re- 
flected from the warm glow of the dying day. 
Later the light of a moon softened the outlines of 
the fort, the church, and the tents, so that these, 
bare and ugly by daylight, seemed to blend har- 
moniously with the silver grey landscape. Jorge, 
however, preferred sleep to natural beauty, and to 
keep himself awake until the orderly officer had 
been his rounds he composed lurid maledictions 
against his sergeant, his officers, the country, and the 
crusade on which he had been compelled to embark. 

Jorge had none of the pride of race and the lust 
of conquest which made heroes of many of his 
countrymen. Both of his grandfathers had been 
Guinea slaves, for Portugal’s first mighty effort to 
subdue Asia had so drained away her manhood that 
to keep the race alive African slaves had been im- 
ported to marry the mateless peasant women. His 
grandmothers had been peasants of the stock that 
had meekly submitted, at one time to Moorish 


A PATH OF GOLD 363 

overlords, at another to Christian, according as fortune 
ebbed and flowed between the forces of the Cross 
and those of the Crescent. It was natural, there- 
fore, that, though no coward and as ready as any man 
to fight for loot, or even for the mere lust of battle, 
the idea of fighting for an imperial or a spiritual 
ideal had no attractions for him. He was tired of 
fighting to win glory for others. He saw no 
prospect of finding any personal profit in the crusade 
against Monomatapa, and all the African element in 
his nature yearned for a life of ease and indolence. 
Many such men as himself, both in India and in 
Africa, had married native women, and had settled 
down happily to live on the fruit of their wives' toil. 
All Jorge asked of life was opportunity to do likewise 
— to marry a young and vigorous native wife, build a 
little hut, break ground for a garden, and then sleep 
all day in the shade, while his wife tended the one 
and cultivated the other. Most heartily he cursed 
the fidalgoes who proudly styled themselves con- 
quistadores, the crusade, and all concerned in it. 

His thoughts reverted to that afternoon's 
council, and he chuckled to remember how neatly 
Temple had bowled over Dom Vicente, and how 
ingeniously he himself had aided the Englishman's 
escape. 

“He is worth the whole lot of those stiff-backed 
fidalgoes and cavalleiros put together," thought 
Jorge. “ I wonder where he has gone. By Heaven, 
if I knew I would follow him." 

The thought led Jorge to conjure up a picture in 


364 JOHN TEMPLE 

which he strode into some far-away native village and 
found Temple seated on a throne with a crown on 
his head, administering justice to loyal and worship- 
ping Kaffirs. In the picture the Englishman shouted 
a hearty greeting, hailed him as a comrade who had 
supported him in a thousand dangers, and made him 
his Prime Minister on the spot. Jorge then imagined 
himself choosing a bride from a score of dark-eyed 
beauties and — the African blood was hot in his 
veins — he decided that he would marry them all. 
Suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps recalled 
him to the actual prosaic facts of the night. 

The orderly officer for the day was going his 
rounds with the sergeant of the guard. Jorge 
challenged, received an answer, reported all well, 
listened till the officer and his attendant passed out 
of earshot, then, confident that neither of them 
would go the rounds again, scooped himself a nest 
in the cool sand, lay down, and went promptly to 
sleep. 

Before an hour had passed he was roughly . 
awakened, to find his arms and legs held firmly by 
a dozen hands, another hand over his mouth, and 
the point of a dagger at his throat. 

‘‘ If you struggle, or try to shout, you die,” 
whispered a well-known voice, and Jorge, blinking 
sleepily, saw that he was surrounded by a score of 
sturdy Kaffirs and that the Englishman was bending 
over him. Nod your head if you understand.” 

Jorge nodded as emphatically as is wise for a 
man who has a dagger at his throat. 


A PATH OF GOLD 


365 

“ Stand up and put your hands behind you/* 
continued Temple, making a sign to the Kaffirs. 
They released him and Jorge obeyed. His arms 
and hands were bound. His mouth gagged. Then 
Temple whispered in his ear. “ Lead me to Father 
Sebastian’s quarters. Move quietly.” 

Again the gunner obeyed. He led the way up 
the beach with a brawny savage holding each of his 
elbows. He showed the Dominican asleep in a tiny 
straw hut built near the church door, and while he 
looked on helpless to interfere, the friar was silently 
seized, gagged, bound, and hoisted on to the broad 
shoulders of one of the Kaffirs. 

Now, go back to the canoes with these men 
of mine,” whispered Temple again. If you try to 
break away, they will kill you. I will follow in a 
few moments.” 

The Kaffirs, who seemed to understand exactly 
what Temple wanted of them, led Jorge back to the 
beach, where the man who carried the Dominican 
lowered him gently to the ground. Then all stood 
silent and motionless as statues, while Jorge wondered 
how many minutes he had to live. At last he heard 
the approach of stealthy footsteps, and, looking 
towards the camp, saw two persons approaching. 
One, who carried a cumbrous bundle, he soon 
recognized as Temple. The identity of the other, 
who was wrapped in a big military cloak, puzzled 
him. The Englishman lowered his bundle, stooped, 
and whispered into the friar’s ears. 

“ Forgive me, dear Father. A man who fights 


366 JOHN TEMPLE 

single-handed for his own against an army column 
cannot choose his methods. Pledge your honour 
that you will not raise an outcry, that I may unbind 
you.” 

The Dominican nodded. Temple slipped the 
gag from his mouth and the bonds from his limbs, 
whispering — 

I only wish you to come with me a short 
distance, and do as I ask you there. Then I shall 
entreat your forgiveness and let you return.” 

Then he turned to Jorge, and slipped the gag 
from his mouth also. 

‘‘ Speak low or I kill you,” he whispered. 

What is in that canoe ? ” 

“ Arms and ammunition,” muttered the gunner. 

At a sign from Temple six Kaffirs cautiously 
launched the canoe. 

Has any canoe cloth in it ? ” continued the 
Englishman. Jorge pointed to another, and this, 
too, was launched. The gunner’s thoughts were 
occupied with an uneasy feeling that he would 
probably hang when the loss of the canoe was dis- 
covered, yet even the fear of death did not prevent 
his wondering who the person in the cloak might be. 
Suddenly the problem was solved. 

‘‘Make haste, John. Oh, make haste, dear 
heart,” whispered a voice that trembled with excite- 
ment, joy, and fear. 

“ Dona Beatriz,” cried Jorge, startled out of the 
caution imposed upon him. 

“Jorge. Is that Black Jorge, the gunner?” 


A PATH OF GOLD 


367 


whispered Dona Beatriz. “You will not betray us. 
Remember all that we have endured together.” 

“ He won’t betray us unless he is in love with 
death/’ growled Temple. “ Get into that canoe, 
Jorge, and be more quiet, or I’ll slit your throat for 
you.” 

Jorge obeyed with an inward chuckle. It seemed 
as if his dream were going to come true. Then the 
others embarked, and the two canoes were paddled 
softly upstream. No one spoke. The gunner and 
the friar sat in one. In the other sat the English- 
man, with Dona Beatriz nestling her head against 
his shoulder, and in his hand Jorge’s loaded arquebus. 
Until they were out of sight of the settlement he 
kept his eyes fixed astern, but when the last camp- 
fire was hidden by a bend in the river, he called to 
the Kaffirs. 

“ Now row with strength, men, but let no one 
sing.” 

He laid aside the arquebus and took Dona 
Beatriz’s hands in both of his. 

“ Think once more before it is too late,” he 
murmured tenderly. “Think what lies before you. 
I would rather lose you now, and love your dear 
memory evermore, than that you should ever for 
one moment repent having followed me to a com- 
fortless home among savages in the wilderness ” 

“Hush, hush, John,” she answered. “What 
comfort would I have in a land where you were 
not? Make a pillow for me with your arm, my 
heart. Never have I had a quiet night’s sleep since 


368 JOHN TEMPLE 

you went away, but now my mind is at rest, and I 
can sleep.” 

At last the first flush of grey dawn paled the 
eastern sky, and Temple gave orders to put in to 
the southern bank. They beached the canoes, and 
Temple lifted the girl on to the sand. 

Forgive me. Father,” he said to Father 
Sebastian, as the latter stepped ashbre, “ for bringing 
you by force. I could think of no other plan. I 
have brought you here to marry me to the lady who 
is mine by right and by her own will.” 

“You need not have used force, my son,” 
replied the friar gently, a smile lighting up his 
kindly face. “ I once loved a dear lady, but God, 
in His infinite wisdom, took her from me after she 
had taught me what is the most precious gift that 
He can give to man. Where is the ring? ” 

Consternation showed on the faces of the lovers. 
They had none. Father Sebastian fumbled under- 
neath the breast of his gown and drew out a slender 
gold ring that hung by a string from his neck. 

“ When I took the Church for my bride I kept 
this ring. I feared lest I should forget her who 
awaits me in Paradise, but the years have taught me 
that I need no bauble to keep her memory green. 
Bring me water that I may bless it anew.” 

They found a broken calabash in one of the 
canoes and brought him water from the river. Then 
there on a spit of sand those two, who had a 
dozen times faced death together, joined hands and 
were made one. Only the wind rustling in the tall 



Then there on a spit of sand these two, who had a dozen times faced death together, joined hands 

and were made one.” 








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A PATH OF GOLD 


369 

reeds made music for the wedding, but God's 
sky, flaming across half its arc by now with scarlet 
and green and gold, made a temple more grandly 
beautiful than any wrought by men's hands. 

‘‘We must push on lest they follow us," said 
Temple, when the simple ceremony was over. “ Have 
you pen and paper in your wallet. Father?" 

The friar had both. Temple wrote a note in 
his uncouth Portuguese. 

“To Dom Vasco F erdinandez Homem, greeting, 

“ I have taken my wife to my new home. For the 
wages that are due to me I have taken two canoes with 
their cargoes. If you challenge my right to the latter 
come to Monomatapa s landy and take them from 

“ Now, Jorge," he said, folding the paper and 
dipping his hand in his wallet, “ you shall take this 
letter to Dom Vasco. I am sorry I had to bind 
you. Take these coins in compensation. I have 
no further need of them." 

“Would you send me back to the gallows?" 
protested Jorge. “They will hang me without 
question for my share in this affair. Come, com- 
rade, there is room for me in this new land of 
yours, and you will want a master gunner for your 
men. You would not send a fellow-soldier who 
had fought and hungered with you to his death." 

“As you will. Get into the canoe, then. I 
will find a messenger at the next village to take the 
letter," replied Temple. “Now, Father, come with 
us out of this dreadful place. We can give you a 


370 JOHN TEMPLE 

home, and there is work enough for you. My dear 
wife has told me that it has been the great desire of 
your life to labour among the heathen.** 

When God shall give me leave, I will come to 
you, dear children,** replied the Dominican, but 
not yet. I have a penance to perform first. I have 
this day married my daughter in God to a heretic. 
When I have confessed this sin to a fellow priest, 
and performed what penance he shall give me, then 
will I gladly come to you, and devote what remain- 
ing years God shall give me to the work I have 
always longed to do.** 

They argued with the old man, but could not 
shake his purpose. At last they knelt for his bless- 
ing, then re-entered the canoes, and pushed off to 
face the unknown together. 

The friar stood and watched them out of sight. 
By now the whole breadth of the river was lit by 
the rising sun, and before they disappeared the 
lovers seemed to the friar*s imagination to be 
journeying along a path of gold. When he could 
see them no more, he knelt and prayed long and 
earnestly that God, Who had denied them that ease 
and comfort which makes for happiness in most 
men*s eyes, should give them His more precious 
gift of mutual, enduring love. At last he rose, and 
turned towards the rising sun. 

‘‘ Leonor, my dear dead love, I have done this 
thing for your sake,** he murmured. “ God pardon 
me if my love be still an earthly one.** Then he 
struggled through the reeds, found a path and slowly 


A PATH OF GOLD 


371 

walked back to the fort, to labour there until he had 
expiated the sin of which he accused himself. 


A week later Dom Vasco Ferdinandez Homem, 
leaving a small garrison to hold the fort at Sena, 
withdrew the troops to Mozambique. Towards the 
end of the year Monclaros and Dom Vicente, 
having ruined others without attaining their own 
end, returned to Portugal, and none regretted their 
going. Relieved of the Jesuit’s influence, Dom 
Vasco made one more attempt to carry on the 
crusade against Monomatapa, advanced inland by 
way of Sofala, won a series of barren victories that 
cost him as dear as any defeats, then returned to 
Mozambique, made one more attempt by way of 
the Zambesi, suffered a crushing defeat, and at last 
left the country in poverty and disgrace. So a quest 
begun with golden hopes dwindled to nothing and 
was forgotten. 



LAKE. I 

\nyassa 


Mozambique 


WONGASI^ 
CREAY PLACE 


luelimane 


Muarro 


Sofala 


MONOI^TAPA^ 
O GREAT PLACE 


f^AY OF 
iESPItUTO SANTO 




MAP OF 

PART OF SOUTH-EAST AFRICA 

to iUustrate 

“John Temple" 


%LANO OF 
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SCALE OF ENCLISN MIkES. 


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yHE following pages contain advertise- 
ments of a few of the Macmillan novels. 



By OWEN WISTER 


Members of the Family 

Vi’bid Sketches of Life on the Western Plains 
Dec. clothe i 2 mo, $1.25 net; hy maily $1.35 


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to life and expressed by a literary artist.” — Boston Herald. 

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News. 

PUBLISHED BY 

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like it, or one half as good.** 


RICHARD WASHBURN CHILD’S 


HANDS 



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Conspicuously successful ... his climax culminating 
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“Genuine, direct, and lovably convincing . . . what 
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Inter-Ocean. 


PUBLISHED BY 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

64-66 Fifth Avenue, New York 


Jack London’s Latest Works 

THE CRUISE OF THE SNARK 

Illustrated with over 150 halftones from photographs 
by the author and a frontispiece in colors 

Decorated cloth, 8vo, boxed, $2.00 net 

One of the most adventurous voyages ever planned was that of 
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less danger. The illustrations are from photographs taken by the 
author. 


ADVENTURE 

Decorated cloth, i2mo, $1.50 

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While there is something doing from first to last, the reader is not 
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WHEN GOD LAUGHS 


Illustrated, decorated doth, izmo, $1.50 

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love of man and wife. What this love is, and what it brings to 
pass, make a yarn which is as finished and complete a piece of 
work as one often finds in the much discussed short-story field. 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


Publishers 


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NEW MACMILLAN NOVELS OF UNUSUAL INTEREST 


MRS* ROGER A. PRYOR^S New Novel 

The Coloners Story 

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For those who have a tenderness for the old days of the South, or who 
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Klaus Hinrich Baas 

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JACK LONDON’S 

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Clothy $1.30 

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interest.” — Chicago Inter Ocean. 

"A rapidly shifting panorama of exciting incident.” — Boston Transcript. 


PUBLISHED BY 

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By zona gale 

Friendship Village Love Stories 

By the author of “ Friendship Village.” 

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Friendship Village ciotu, i2mo, $1.50 

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— Chicago Record-Herald. 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


Publishers 


64-66 Fifth Avenue 


New York 


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